


Evil hearts can love

by Ladtheove



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gore, Hate Sex, I Love You, Kidnapping, Love in the face of so much pain, M/M, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, posible non con, world ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladtheove/pseuds/Ladtheove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were one, they were three. Bruce was calm, Hulk was ire, and him… he was hate. Hate so deep it could swallow earth and everyone in it. Drown them in pain until all of them died. But maybe there´s one man who can´t be drown. Maybe there´s one man, who can embrace hate.  A Devil Hulk, Bruce, Hulk/Tony love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Curse

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [End of The World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/414815) by [outerealm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outerealm/pseuds/outerealm). 



> The Avengers are property of Marvel/Disney. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans, not for money. Thanks.  
> Warning: This story will contain yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, world destruction, non or dub con (not know yet), maybe gore, and sex. Fluff at the end, don´t worry. ^^  
> Inspired by this fantastic pront http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/17385.html?thread=39449833&%20#t39449833  
> And beta revised by ellie_elle

This chapter is dedicated to my fantastic beta; Vida. Also known as [ellie_elle](../../../../users/ellie_elle/pseuds/ellie_elle).

 

 

It starts with a mission gone inexplicably wrong.  

A sour battle of red blood flames, a dragon-like beast they couldn´t seem to defeat, and a trap. A trap none of them saw fall until it was weaving its magic around them.

Fine like silk tendrils of golden power, twisted and merged with their limbs, went under their skin, searching for their core – their minds. Like some kind of leech, they sought the most painful memories: the ones deeply hidden inside, where the pain could be buried – maybe forgotten – but never gone. Made them real, made them present. Made the mighty heroes relive them like they were happening all over again.

The dragon-like beast suddenly gone, alone in the nearly destroyed New York street, surrounded by dying fire and raining particles of ash- their world broke like fine crystal and came down in jagged shards.  

Thors screams for Loki rose in the oncoming storm, dyeing the red shadows of the last hour of light with pain strong as the wind his pain made come; tearing at their clothes and hair with desperate fingers; angry, hungry. Thunder cracked, and Steves cries for Bucky and for his lost life mingled with the first drops of rain. Natasha fell on her knees, silent, making no sound, no expression on her rain-streaked face. Clint stood there, looking somewhere no one else could, bow in hand, trembling violently, silent words on his quivering lips.

And Tony.

He was in his armor, helmet gone, looking so alone in the storm, under the fierce wind and heavy rain that made his hair darker, his skin paler, the metal of his armor gleam like dead fish scales. His brown eyes were hollow, his shoulders down, pain written on his face.

None of them was looking at the last member of the team, and no one saw the first signal.

Hulk fell silent and became Banner.

Then, just as he was about to pass out, his eyes blinked gold.


	2. After memories

 

**This work is being beta readed by the fantastic Vida. ^^**

 

 

Days came and went in the Avenger Tower, and they slowly healed, returned to the laughter and companionship, two years' worth experiences together forged.

Clint played stupid videogames and threw arrow after arrow in the range, until he caught his valance again. Thor just went see Jane, and when he returned a week lather looks more like himself; goofy and noble, if not totally happy. Natasha would exhaust herself working out in the gym with Steve for hours on end, and the time spent together seemed to help both of them.

Tony… Tony just wanted to feel right again, and there were only two things that could do that for him; working on his inventions, and being with Bruce: the only one who ever could, and wanted, to understand. His something more, lover for nearly a year, and best friend for the one before that.

Pepper had noticed way before Tony, because she was intuitive as that, knew and cared for her boss and partner just as much as she loved him; observed their dance of friendship, short of so much more. The way they completed each other, matched step for step, in a way she couldn't hope to achieve. _And just like she always noticed even the painful things she would have wanted to ignore, saw that she wasn't what Tony really needed_. Not anymore. So, she did the only thing someone who really loved somebody else could do.

She broke up, and gave him her blessing.

He still can recall her painful, little, straining to be happy, smile. Her beautiful moist eyes and proud stance as she stood there, sweet and caring like only Pepper ever was to him, and ended their relationship.

" _I love you Tony, don't you dare forget that, -_ and she smiled a bit wider, truly smiled, - _but I'm not the only one, not the one you need the most."_

It hurt, but in the end she had been right, just like she always was.

She still was the best friend he could hope for, and that, Pepper would forever be. But she wasn't a riddle, a mind capable of keeping up with his; even surpass it on its own field. She wasn't Bruce, who hides so much under his calm surface. So much so, it makes Tony feel like he's gazing inside dark water and getting enchanted by the shadows living deep within.

Bruce was so much more than the outside that could be gazed at, and he only hoped to discover it all in one lifetime.

He loved Bruce, loved all he was, and Hulk just as much. Green, strong, caring Hulk. Who (in fact) had so much sweetness in him that no one else seemed to notice. Well, save for the team, that is. They cared about him now, were friends with the angry one, even played and laughed with him every time he had to come forth, but Tony had still been the first who really saw him. That made him proud. Maybe he should have been more humble, but well… he was Tony Stark, after all.

Getting Bruce to give them an opportunity was difficult in the beginning. The scientist was so tense and guarded, Tony was afraid he would flee any second to who knows what third world country. But he stayed, started looking at Tony like some strange data he could not seem to understand. Tony tried to make himself better, care for Bruce. He had been doing that before too, but now he tried with a passion that amused Clint and made Thor beam, just as much as Cap blushed at his ever flamboyant attempts that made Bruce's lips curve into little amused smiles Tony started to collect.

Little by little they started opening up to one another, until finally, they started dating one autumn day ten months ago. Since then, they had been together nearly all the time, happiness spilling all around.

But ever since they were cursed…

Bruce had withdrew from them all, holed up in his own lab that he hadn't used in quite some time, ever since they had created a shared workplace so they could work and still be able to speak and joke around. Bruce didn't want to see the team, made up excuses for Tony. And it hurt… but Tony was not one to be set aside.

"Bruce, open the door please."

**_To be continued._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little by little here we come, in the next chapter starts the drama, jujuju I´m so evil.  
> Coments, please?


	3. Open the door

**This work has been beta readed by the fantastic Vida, also known as[ellie_elle](../../../../users/ellie_elle/pseuds/ellie_elle)            **  

 

“Bruce, open the door please.”

Inside, someone moved, a chair scraped against the floor.  

 “Tony?” Bruce’s voice came from the other side of the metal wall, bone-tired and ragged, and it made Tony’s heart ache. It reminded him of those first few months of Bruces stay in the Tower, when the man had still been ready to bolt to India at any second, and just like then, that stupid, little fear of abandonment started humming in his ear.

Tony pushed it aside with all his might.  

“Yeah, it’s me. Care to let your lover in?” He tried with false cheer, even though he didn’t feel anything more than dread.

Bruce sighed. Footsteps crept closer, but didn’t quite reach the door, as if wary of coming any nearer.

“Tony, I already told you I was working on a experiment.”

“Yeah, and we both know that’s utter bullshit.” -The engineer knew his lover could be as stubborn as himself, so he didn’t let Bruce try and dodge this again. -“Please, it’s been a week, and it’s obvious by now that letting you deal with this on your own isn’t going to help any of us. Just… just let me in.” If asked, he would forever deny the pleading note in his voice. But the engineer knew Bruce was very vulnerable to a hurt needy Tony, and he wasn’t below taking advantage of anything he could at that point.  

“… You really shouldn’t be here.” Bruce said. It was clear the scientist’s voice was wavering, but he still wouldn’t let him in.

Tony just pushed him some more, hoping it would be enough.

“If this is about the Hulk maybe making an appearance and hurting me, I thought we had established he wasn’t a mindless monster. And he likes me, remember?”

“Tony…”

“And I’m being polite, but if you don’t open the door this instant I’m going to override your password, andcome in nonetheless. You know I can.”- It wasn’t really a threat, and Tony tried to pull it off playfully, but he would do it if needed.  – “Bruce please… just…”- Tony put his head against the closed door, feeling alone, tired, still shaken up after the curse, and just... just needed. - “I need you.”

Suddenly, the door opened, making Tony take a step back. Next second he was sliding inside, not really confident Bruce would not change his mind, and shut it again.

Just as he suspected, the laboratory didn’t even look dirty. The only things that seemed used were the couch near the wall, a crumpled blanket and pillow thrown carelessly on it, and a bin full of empty water bottles and used tea bags. The rest of the place was as impeccable white as it was the last time it was cleaned.

“Haven’t you even eaten?” Tony asked and was already opening his mouth for Jarvis to order some takeout, when he looked at Bruce, and the words died on his tongue.

He looked emaciated, pale and hunched in on himself, intelligent eyes dim behind the glasses. His curly brown hair, Tony loved so much to dig his fingers in, was greasy and tangled, and the clothes he had on were the same he had put on after the battle, just a lot more wrinkled and damp with sweat. He looked about to fall, but still had his patient, let me be, look on. That one made Tony want to shake  and hug him, all at the same time.

“Bruce, love, you need a bath, some food, and our bed – in that order. Come on, we will order some takeout as we go.” -He tried to remember when was the last time he saw his lover so wasted, and couldn’t. It scared and preoccupied him. And because he was Tony Stark, it made him nervous and talkative. “Some hot hearty curry or chicken. I like chicken. Do you want chicken? I could totally eat some. You …”

“Tony.” -Bruce interrupted him.- “I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I…” -He seemed to think better about what to say, and instead ended with: “I should go before someone gets hurt.”

That was when Tony saw the nearly hidden behind the couch, seeming packed and ready to go bag.

“Jarvis?” he asked, because he had to know.

“ _Doctor Banner has just purchased a plane ticket to Brazil.” -The AI informed him._

Anger and pain blossomed inside of Tony. Even so, he didn’t shout. He understood, somehow, that this couldn’t have been only about the Hulk making an appearance. Tony felt betrayed –even worse, abandoned.

“You were going to leave, without saying anything?” -He knew his voice sounded lifeless, knew he must have looked about to cry or snarl, but didn’t care.  Just tried to stay calm, because if he started losing it now, he would lose it completely.

Bruce came closer, as if to touch him, but didn’t; laced his hands together so he wouldn’t reach for Tony, and ignored the monster inside. Not the Hulk – it had been some time since they came to some kind of truce, and Bruce had been coming to terms with the green big one.  It wasn´t Hulk the one he was ignoring now, even if he could hear him roar at the other one. It was the other, the poisonous yellow thing, Bruce was struggling to keep at bay, the one who wanted Tony on his knees.

“ _Make him beg. You know he would do it so very good…_ _”_

Hulk slammed the other and it grew silent, but Bruce knew it was temporary. It had been like that since the curse. He felt like he was tearing inside.

“Tony, you don’t understand.” -He said.

“Course I don’t. Because I thought this between us meant something, but you are leaving. And if I hadn’t asked Jarvis, you wouldn’t have said anything about it. Would you?”- He didn’t quite shout, not at all, but the anger was in his voice. He was tired, stressed by the curse and the painful sensation of being abandoned, betrayed yet again, even if for the most part he didn’t really believe Bruce would have left without a very good motive. But the pain was not something rational.

Bruce took his glasses off, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s not like that,”- And he looked so ragged, Tony couldn’t make himself stay angry at him. He just… crumbled. His shoulders sagged.

 “What’s happening, Bruce? I know it has something to do with _whatever happened  with the dragon thing._ It’s been hard on us all, but I can’t help you if you don’t speak to me.”

Bruce couldn’t tell Tony he was afraid of this newly awakened thing inside himself. He didn’t want to see Tony look at him, and see a monster. Not Tony, not the only one who never ever looked at Bruce, or Hulk, as anything other but people, fascinating humans he ended up loving. But seeing Tony hurt wasn’t something he wanted either.

So he hugged this infuriating, magnificent, crazy man, against his chest, and just prayed it would be enough.

**To be continued.**

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tony, poor Bruce. XD I´m not sure, but maybe next chapter I would put in place the scene that would unleash the Devil Hulk. We will see.  
> Comments would be appreciated. ^^


	4. Near so, very near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The avengers tense, prepared to take the magic wave that´s coming.

**Eternal thanks to my beta reader Vida also known as ellie_elle, for such great work**

 

"Bruce," -Tony said, the word muffled in the other man's rumpled shirt, his lips against the dirty cotton and the flesh beneath, almost close enough to be a kiss. -"You know this won't distract me, don't you?" He asked him, but did not sound so hurt anymore as he returned the hug greedily, starving for the warmth and love he hadn't had for far too long.

"I know," Bruce muttered knowingly. The words fell against hair as dark as coal and petroleum. He didn't say anything else, and vowed inside to keep silent on the issue no matter what. Mercifully, Tony didn't speak either.

It was like they were ravenous for each other after days of being apart, and now that they were in each other's arms again, none of them wanted to disrupt the quiet peacefulness.

And so, Bruce cradled the engineer, let himself soak the heat his lover gave off so freely and stored it inside for the long cold nights that were to come, for the time he wouldn't have him anymore.

He ignored the now silent and icy presence inside and the hate it exuded like some kind of poison he could feel was corroding his guts.

And allowed himself a kiss.

Softly pressed his lips to Tonys dark, unruly hair that smelled like motor oil, metal and sweat – that smelled like Tony. Bruce caught the aroma and cherished it, stored its specifics in his neurons with indelible, impossible to erase, ink. Not wanting to forget how Tony smelled. Since soon, memories were going to be, the only thing he was going to have left of the man.

Pain gnawed at his heart and he tightened the embrace, feeling the way their bodies fit together, so poorly and so perfectly at the same time.

Knew he had to let Tony go, was going to in a minute, but just for now… he held on; wanted to have him near one more moment, one more second.

It wasn't enough, but would have to be.

Bruce couldn't ask for more, not when it meant putting Tony in danger.

The engineer should have been as far away from this newborn monster as possible, because the things this creature would do to Tony if he got hold of him… Bruce **_wouldn't_** allow them to happen.

That was why he had to go: to keep Tony safe.

Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't feel every agonic, lonely wound, leaving Tony was going to bring. The love he had for this man wouldn't disappear just because he wasn't there anymore.

This scorching thing was not like the quiet burning flame he had felt – he still, in a way, feels –for Betty. It was like Tony himself, like a little big bang; fire and explosions, and a creation force so violent it´s impossible to stop. It was unique and irreplaceable, and it wouldn't go away. EVER.

Breaking their relationship up would only make the wonder painful.

Even so, Bruce had been aware at the very start of their relationship, of the many dangerous variables he was bringing along. And the hope to keep this, that the progress with the Hulk had brought, hadn´t been enough to erase his sense of the inevitable.

Deep inside, he had known it was going to end, and the more he loved Tony, the harder it would be when the time to part came. He knew nothing good ever stayed with him for long. Even so, he couldn't regret the place the engineer had carved in his heart.

"Bruce," Tony began…when the Avengers alarm started blaring from the speakers in the laboratory.

"We should go." Bruce took all the love inside, withdrew from Tony, finally let him go. Put on his glasses, and together with them, the composed and calm facade he always wore.

Tony saw it for the armor it was, and wanted to argue, call Bruce back, but Clint chose that precise moment to show up on his way to the meeting point.

"Hey! You coming?"- Hawk asked from the open door.

And he lost his chance.

**oOo**

The creature they had been called to take on was again the dragon-like thing that had cursed them two weeks ago.

Its red scales glinted in the afternoon sun as it rampaged through a business street, breathing flames and coal, roaring, destroying surprisingly little for such a spectacular setting. Its large fangs and vicious looking claws denting walls and roofs, as the beast alternated between flying and climbing. People were yelling and running wildly, trying to get away from the fire and the beast. Cars had been destroyed, creating an impressive traffic jam of vehicles that simultaneously strained to go forward and backward, resulting in more smaller accidents.

It was pure chaos.

SHIELD agents were attempting to vacate the surroundings, but since it happened during one of the bushiest hours of the day, the amount of people involved was too big for it to be done quickly, and the Avengers were left with the additional obstacle of innocent people running around.

Still, this time they were at least prepared against further magic: Thor having brought some amulets weaved by his mother that he distributed between them, before they went to their positions.

The captain took charge of the situation easily enough after that.

Bruce stayed behind in the jet, watching the battle, but not joining in. The monster inside his mind laughed ravenously:

_Afraid to let Hulk out, doctor Banner? Afraid of what I would do without him here to stop me?_

Bruce remained silent, not rising to the provocation. But the questions were there in his mind, taunting.

**oOo**

Thor and Iron Man managed to injure its wings enough to make the beast drop to the ground, rampant and twisting like an enormous rabid bat. But the fall didn't accomplish anything more than further enraging it. It hissed, roared impossibly loud, and spat fire on the captain who protected himself and Natasha with his shield, until one of Clint's explosive arrows buried itself deep in its yellow malicious eye, and the river of flames stopped long enough for them to attack.

From the roof his nest was currently on, Hawkeye observed the beasts movements and directed their movements accordingly, to dodge the breathed flames.

Thor and Iron Man joined the fray only seconds later, attacking the beast from above, using thunder and electric blue colored charges. The beast was losing badly, distracted by more opponents than it could take on.

Then, out of nowhere, the monster started glowing golden. They all realized what it meant, and tensed, reading themselves to endure the magic wave that was coming their way.

**To be continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will appear Hulk. And Bruce…. Well, you will see. XD  
> P.D: This is my very first avenger fic, and Tony is a character that doesn´t come very naturally to me, so I will appreciate any advice you want to give. ^^


	5. Coming Forth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Cap, we need help over here!’  
> It looked like some huge debris had hit the armour with enough force to dent it inwards. Left flank of the armour was totally wrecked, dark blood oozing from the wounds.

This work is beta readed by the fantastic [ellie_elle](../../../users/ellie_elle/pseuds/ellie_elle)            

The golden magic rose like a tide and swept everything in its way: cars, still running people, buildings, trees… the team. Embraced it all, taking it inside and trapping it like dense tree sap. In the midst of the magic, people started to scream. 

‘Take the civilians out of here!’  They heard someone order the shield agents- too late.

Clint closed his fist around the amulet dangling from a cord around his neck, and waited for the nightmarish visions to unfurl before his eyes. Down on the ground, Steve lifted his shield and tensed. A few meters away, Natasha trained her gun on the beast and fired without pause. Inside the jet, away from the magic grasp, Bruce’s breath caught inside his throat. Auburn eyes trained onthe shining metal suit flying through the golden field, still in close combat with the dragon-like creature.

‘Do you _think he will need help?’_ The yellow monster inside hissed mockingly. _‘You think he will go through the same agony again? That he will call for you?’_  He toyed with his fears like playing piano keys, before Hulk silenced him again. Bruce closed his fingers on the bench he was sitting on and said nothing. His eyesfocused once more on the red and golden form, fast and violent in the storm that was quickly rising above New York.

Tony waited a second once he was immersed in the golden hue, expecting himself to be bombarded by images and pain; but they didn’t come. Nervously, the engineer let out a breath he didn’t know had been holding. A smirk came to his lips.

_It looks the amulets are doing their job._

‘Hey, Cap! How do you feel about some roasted dragon?’ He called out. 

‘Don’t think I´ve got any mustard, we will have to do without,’ Hawkeye’s sassy voice came from the com.  Not far away Tony could see him, explosive arrow on the bow and firing.

‘Focus,’ interrupted Captain’s exasperated, but fond voice. ‘Looks like this creature can’t breathe fire when using magic. Go for the head, we have to take this monster out before it starts flaming everything again.’

‘Or disappears like the last time,’ Natasha added, unmoved by the creature’s growl at being shot at, fluidly dodging a lash of its spiked tail.

Suddenly, the light became brighter, turned blindingly white.  

‘Shield brothers and sister, this magic is to explode!’ shouted Thor as he came down from the sky, intent on protecting Natasha, who was too far away from the Captain to be protected by his shield.  ‘Friend Tony…!’

‘I know!’ yelled Tony, flying towards Clint even when he could not see him in the violent light – his sensor locating his teammate’s position as the brightness came to its impending culminating point. His body collided with the archer’s, tackling him to the dirty roof, only a second before the air went up in flames.

The vibration of the blast threw cars against buildings and metal shards and crystal against bodies; people were slammed against concrete and flew through storefronts, and the jet shook like a paper plane hit by a wind blast.

The force threw Steve against a wall, and his back cracked the bricks with the force of the impact. It was only his shield that protected him from the fire and the car fender, that otherwise would have pierced right through him. Thor curled around Natasha, taking her in his arms, his feet planted firmly on the ground. If it hadn’t been for that, they would have been blasted away. Still, the flames scorched Thor’s cape and burned part of his leather armour. Shoot fell from his fair, singed by fire, strands.

The heat came immediately after the blast, creating an inferno, burning their lungs and throats and taking all the oxygen away. _Steve used his free hand to cover his mouth and nose._ Natasha did the same with her arm. Thor endured it, unwilling to risk even so little a move and have his shield sister be wounded. Clint – crushed beneath Stark’s heavy metal armour – also pressed a hand against his lower face, coping with it as best he could.

Then – as suddenly as it came –it was all gone, leaving behind agonized screams, black sulphurous smoke, blood, and destruction – but no dragon.

‘Fucking fuck!’ grumbled Hawkeye, coughingfrom the lingering smoke. ‘You all ok?’

Steve took in his surroundings; the dragon was gone, but left a massacre on its way. People could be seen gutted and mauled, and heard thrown the debris, asking for help, crying and shouting. S.H.I.E.L.D. had vacated nearly the entire street, but there had still been civilians there. Steve grunted and managed to get to his feet, if a little shaken up. A good hundred meters away, Thor lifted his head and slowly let Natasha go, showing Cap, with a gesture of his hand, that they were okay.

‘We are all…’ he stopped mid-sentence, because no, everyone was not well ‘the team’s ok, Hawkeye. How are you and Iron Man?’

‘I think we’re ok’ came Clint’s voice.

Steve let out a sigh, relieved that his team was safe, but couldn’t get rid of the painful squeezing of his heart upon seeing so much pain, sadness and rage. He pushed it aside to help, and went to the nearest to him woman, trapped under what seemed to be a twisted lamppost.

‘Please, please help me…’ she muttered, shaking. She was an elderly lady with white hair. Now dyed stark red with blood.

`Don’t worry miss, we will take you out of here,’ he said and immediately started lifting the scraped metal. Thor, Natasha, and some SHIELD agents that had survived the explosion and weren’t too badly injured started helping, too.

**oOo**

Bruce shook his head slightly, getting rid of the momentary disorientation caused by the sharp movements the jet had just made.

‘You ok?’ asked the pilot.

‘I’m good. What about the team?’ He remembered listening to some conversation through his earpiece, but he had been too confused by the jet shaking in the air, to make much of it.

‘They seem to be ok. Cap, Thor and Black Widow are helping the wounded.’

‘And Hawkeye and Iron Man?’ Bruce felt dread speed his heartbeat.

‘Haven´t seen them yet.’

The scientist lifted a hand to his earpiece.

‘Iron Man… Tony, can you hear me?’

 _‘You think he could be dead?’_ the creature inside him laughed _._

Bruce swallowed, eyes fixed on the destruction far below, Hulk roaring inside.

**oOo**

 ‘Hey, Tony, care to move? I’m not implying you’re fat…, but your armour weights a ton.’ Silence.

‘…Tony? You there, buddy?’ The armour suddenly felt a lot heavier than before. ‘Tony? Tony! Can you hear me?’ There wasn’t any answer. _‘Fuck!’_

Immediately, Clint wiggled underneath Tony, dread weighting him down like a rock inside his chest. They had been the nearest to the beast, and the closest to the epicentre of the explosion. The damage something so strong could have caused… Hawkeye clenched his teeth, and finally got out from underneath the armour. He sat up, looked at his friend… and cursed.

‘Cap, we need help over here!’

It looked like some huge debris had hit the armour with enough force to dent it inwards. The left flank of the armour was totally wrecked, dark blood oozing from the wounds. Clint forced Tony on his back, searching for the slot that would open the helmet. It took a very long minute, but finally he found it. The metal unlocked, uncovering Tony Stark’s painfully pale face. Mercifully, he was breathing – if shallowly.

‘ _What happened, Hawkeye_?’  Cap’s strained voice came from his earpiece.

‘The explosion destroyed the left flank of Tony’s armour. He’s unconscious and bleeding, and I can´t assess the damage with so much metal covering the wound.’ As he was speaking, Clint took his leather vest off and pressed it to the wound, slowing the blood flow. ‘Cap…!’ A roar cut him off. An incredibly strong roar they knew very well.

‘Hulk.’

**To be continued**


	6. Can´t Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He. Could. Not. Breathe.  
> “Tony! Breathe, come on, just breathe,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish you all very Merry Christmas. :D And I hope you like my present coming in the form of an extra-long chapter. ;) As always, I have to thank my fantastic veta Vida for her amazing work and incredible dedication, in the face of my multiple errors, that would have discouraged someone less determined. ;) This time I send you extra thanks and hugs, because of the very long work you had to do, and the way you nailed it all the same. ^^ Read you soon and I wish you have a superb Christmas.

Evil Hearts Can Love  
  
Chapter 6 - Can’t Breathe  
  
  
  
“… Tony’s unconscious and bleeding…”   
  
Those words disturbed Bruce, breaching his forced calm the way stones do when they fall on still water. And just like the stones, they too, made ripples on their wake, bringing with them heavy worry, piercing pain, and red blood anger. The feelings, sudden and fierce, seeped through his control to reach Hulk… and the monster on his hold.  
  
The yellow one cackled as the horrible emotions infused his being. And he continued laughing maniacally as he weaved them into horrible made fantasies: images of Tony, of his mangled body, dripping sluggish blood from dull metal shards embedded in flesh, of his brown, intelligent eyes, so fiery and full of life, that were, bit by bit, growing glassy, cold, empty, dead…  
  
Such razor-sharp pictures he threw back at Bruce, like they were a spear, laughing raucously all the way. Bruce, as he was intensely trying to control himself, holding on to the notion that Tony ought to be wounded, not dead, didn’t see the attack come. And because he had lowered his defenses, the nightmare cut deeper, more painful, than even the monster had hoped it would, shattering Bruces control into what seemed an explosion of shards… unleashing the Hulk in a violent, green wave.  
  
Bruce felt himself sink into the recess of his mind, struggling against the currents of rage and pain, just like every time his green counterpart came out. But this time, when he fell into the darkness, he wasn’t alone.   
  
“Welcome back, Bruce.”  
  
oOo  
  
Clint was still on the roof of the scorched building, surrounded by thick, clogging smoke, and blackened debris. Bruised torso bare, and covered by soot streaked sweat.  
  
When not very far away, an office-block already on fire, exploded, bringing more heat to the already scorching atmosphere. Clint didn´t acknowledge the sudden hot wave, not even when he knew the skin on his back could be getting blistered. His only concession to it, was the taking of a more protective stance with witch to protect himself and Tony.  
  
Jaw set, eyes sharp, body taunt. He focused on one single task: stopping the blood flow seeping from between his fingers, with only his leather vest, as a makeshift compress to help.  
  
Suddenly, Clint heard a familiar roar coming from somewhere in the city.  
  
He raised his head looking for Hulk. But the plane where Bruce had been was invisible in the smoke, and he couldn’t see if he was still there.  
  
“Fuck! Bruce, we need you down here!” Bruce was the only one on the team who had the medical knowledge to treat Tony.  
  
“Hawkeye,” came Cap’s voice from his earpiece, taking his attention away. “The Avengers have been required to help with the retrieval of civilians.” Clint could hear the tightness in his voice, one that said he didn’t like having to stay down there when one of their teammates was injured. But there where life threatening wounded civilians in there, and Cap was not one to put his feelings before the greater good. Clint knew that. “Bruce is currently not answering our calls,” he continued, “but a Shield medical team is on your way.” Then his tone took on a much softer cadence, and it was Steve, and not Captain America, who uttered the next words. “Take care of Tony until they arrive.”  
  
Clint tightened his grip on the slimy leather red with Tony’s blood, and ground his teeth together.  
  
“I will, Cap.” He could have told him how badly Tony was injured. How haggard he looked– the engineer was ash pale, his breath hitching in his lungs every few seconds like it was going to stop altogether – but didn’t. Not because there were wounded civilians down there, some of which were probably worse off than their friend, (he didn’t have the qualms Steve did) but because the team didn’t need the extra worry, especially not when the monster could return at any given moment. And also because they couldn’t have done anything more, even if he had told them.  
  
If they moved the engineer trying to take him to the hospital not knowing how they could be further upsetting his wounds… Tony could end clipped for life… or dead.  
  
The mere thought felt like ice needles in Hawkeye’s chest, taking the place his friend ought to be in. He had very few people who were important to him, very few he cherished.  
  
Losing one of them felt like losing a limb.  
  
Thinking Phil dead for weeks had been horrid enough, and he still hadn’t forgiven Fury for it – he doubted he would sometime in the near future. Losing Tony now, on his very arms, was not an option he was about to consider.  
  
Tony groaned, quivering lightly, not awake, but still aware enough to feel the pain.  
  
Clint wished he had a free hand, so that he could brush those limp locks out of his friends forehead and comfort him. But he could not, so he did the only thing he was able to do; he talked to let Tony know he wasn’t alone.  
  
“Hey, tin can, it’s gonna be ok. You’ll see, just a few more minutes and we will be home,”fake cheer coating his words.  
  
The engineer coughed, ominously dark crimson blood smearing his mouth, but Clint’s voice seemed to settle him a bit.  
  
Barton clenched his jaw, determined to maintain the facade of calm, since he knew, thanks to his own bitter experience, that not being exactly aware didn’t mean you could not catch some random information. And if Tony was even a bit conscious of his presence, Clint wasn´t going to unsettle him by being anything other than his usual self.    
  
Sometimes, normal was the most reassuring thing.  
  
So he kept to it, even as his eyes took in how fast his friend was fading.  
  
“Just hold on, Tony, okay?” It was going to be ok. It had to.  
  
 _“Where the fuck are those medics!?”_ He thought.  
  
Suddenly, the ground shook.  
  
Something pretty heavy landed near them, and if Clint had not already been on his knees, he would have fallen. The dark heavy smoke surrounding them like suffocating stagnant water, now parted in tendrils before an enormous green muscled body: Hulk. The largest Avenger uncurled from the crouch he had landed in, growling in anger. He didn’t look mad, as was usual, but furious – utterly rabid. His green eerie eyes were alight in murderous intent, his mouth set in a snarl, his teeth bared. 

 

Didn’t even seem to recognize Clint – didn’t seem to notice anything – only the broken Man of Iron.   
  
He took a step closer, lines like spider webs spreading in the concrete roof around his feet. Hawkeye tensed, sensing something was very wrong. This wasn’t normal. Even if Hulk had been distressed by the state his lover was in, he shouldn’t have been this aggressive without an enemy to zero his rage in on.   
  
“Hey, Green Bean, don’t worry, ok?” Hawkeye tried to sound friendly, just like any other time they met. Maybe if he could calm his green friend the situation would not escalate to something life-threatening for the engineer. 

  
“Tony, here, is a bit injured, but it's nothing serious. Medical will come soon and make everything okay, yea?” The lie felt as red as his bloody hands. But it was all he had.   
  
Usually Hulk was lots of fun and a really nice guy when he wasn’t annoyed by the evil lord of the day – and even then he took lots of delight in smashing the guy in question. But now… when he finally looked at Clint, it was like gazing at green magma.  
  
“TONY HURT!” he thundered, taking another step closer. “HULK PROTECT TONY!” He towered over them, enormous and unmovable; radiating a fury so strong the archer could practically taste it on his tongue, fiery and black like blistering coal. It made his fingers ache for his bow, abandoned only two feet away.   
  
“Yea, yea, big guy.” Clint pressed his hands harder against Tony’s wound, mind reeling thinking about just how frail Tony was right now, and how Hulk could kill him without even wanting to.     
  
“Just don’t touch him. Okay?” he asked, almost pleaded, a plastic smile plastered on his face.  
  
An enormous hand smashed him a good dozen meters away.  
  
It was like being hit by a brick wall. There was a loud ringing in his ears and his entire body protested, battered, but Clint rolled over and was on his feet a second later… already late. Hulk had taken Tony off the roof, cradling him with utter care. The broken armor looked terribly small in those huge arms, the man inside it nothing but ragged, so still and so pale… the archer felt his heart tighten.  Was Tony even breathing? His fingers curled for an arrow that wasn't there, something that could stop what he knew was about to happen.  
  
“Big guy…” he rasped, but before he could say anything more, Hulk was leaping away.  
  
Barton put a hand to his earpiece.  
  
“Cap!” It came to life with a static pulse.  
  
oOo  
  
Hulk jumped and leaped, running as fast he could through cars claxons and shouting people.  
  
Horrible anger filled his insides as if flames were devouring him. Only it wasn’t the green, bright wave that was his, it wasn’t the good, strong and rightful anger. This feeling was like acid, a puke yellow feeling, so very different, not his. It made him want to smash everything on his way; the puny people on the street, the shiny buildings, the Hawk...  It felt bad, alien, and utterly wrong.  
  
Hulk felt full of violent rage.  
  
Hulk wanted Tony safe. Tony, who was now on his arms because Hulk felt so furious at Birdie for letting his Metal Man get hurt that he had to take him away before he did more than just smack Birdie out of his way. But Hulk knew the yellow rage was not his. He knew that if he unleashed it on the city, he would later feel bad, and that Bruce would feel even worse. Why did puny Bruce always feel guilty for things Hulk had done? Hulk didn’t know, but still didn’t want Bruce to feel bad because of him. He didn’t want to see the hurt look he knew destroying New York would put on Tony’s face.  
  
That’s why he needed to go somewhere safe, somewhere he could let the not-his rage out, and have Tony protected, safe. And to Hulk, safe meant away from the city, it meant deep green forest he could camouflage himself in, and caves where he could hide, peaceful places he might dig into and where he could get rid of the yellow feeling he didn’t want inside him.  
  
So he ran… until couldn’t run anymore.  
  
“Friend Hulk,” said Thor, “please, put Anthony down.”  
  
oOo  
  
Bruce fell into the recess of his own mind, a place devoid of light, of air, of everything save for a presence he knew all too bad. Had felt its claws mar his mind for a week now, and its deep, growling voice, speak horrible words his every waking hour.  
  
“Welcome Bruce.” The creature hissed, and the scientific could hear the vicious smile in it, even if he couldn’t see the monster. Bruce remained silent, not willing to play this sick game the creature wanted him to engage in.  
  
In the dark he couldn’t tell where it was, but its presence was impossible to not sense, large and venomous, surrounding him like a starving wolf would a lamb.    
  
“Quiet, are we?” it hissed teasingly. “Doesn’t matter. You will break. You already did. What will take to have it happen one more time, anyway?”  
  
Bruce didn’t let himself think about those words or be distracted, and took a defensive stance, just like Natasha had taught him. But in the shadows, the monster seemed to know where he was way better than Bruce could sense him, and when it leaped Bruce didn’t see it coming.  
  
“I have you.”  
  
He thrashed, trying to gain freedom, but couldn’t loosen the yellow-scaled monstrous claw that closed around his throat, taking away his metaphorical oxygen, since here he didn’t actually need to breathe. It took less than a minute for Bruce to acknowledge that he was not about to escape for now, and let himself be pulled up, face to face with the monster, whose shape he could hardly make out in the dark, and waiting for a better opportunity to make his move. Luckily, he was nothing but patient, since he had had to learn to live with Hulk.  
  
“Want to  see something, Bruce?” he muttered, and suddenly, Bruce was looking through eyes that weren’t his own, as sensing with skin not his, as Hulk ran through streets full of panicked people.  
  
This “window” he had was a very narrow one, a display of incomplete sequences and sensations that came and went, like flashing film fragments. They were barely enough to make something out, but he could recognize some impressions there, mixed with the pictures; sticky blood (not their own) drying on their skin, and the small and frail shape of a metal sell on their arms...  
  
“What? ...” he said, not sure he had it right. “Tony?”  
  
“Yes,” the monster hissed in his ear, a whisper full of glee and some other thigh feeling he could not identify.  
  
He had only caught a fleeting glance– inside, he had no control over what he was able to see – but it was enough to grab a picture of Tony.  
  
It was undoubtedly Tony the one on their arms. He had already, in a way, known it, but knowing it was not the same as really seeing the damage done to the armor. He recognized instantly that under a dent such as that were likely broken ribs. An impact enough to indent the armor so, was bound to bring a lot of damage to the body underneath. And this would already look bad for a healthy man, but for Tony, with the Arc reactor taking away the precious space his lungs and heart ought to  occupy… the possibility of dying increased astronomically.  
  
He should be in a hospital. Not here, on their arms. Not near the yellow monster.  
  
“Tony…” it was a strangled sound that died very fast. The claw tightened on his throat silencing it.  
  
“Stay quiet and watch,” it hissed, but it was not a self-satisfied sound, like before –this one was stagnant and breathy, as if it would degenerate into an outright full growl if it got any louder.  
  
Pain and sharp, horrible guilt, shook Bruce like an earthquake. He should have gone away, left Tony days ago, when the yellow thing started whispering to him; by now he could have been somewhere in India. Maybe Tony would have still been injured in this battle, but at least he would be in medical care, recovering from another brush with death, and just trying to get away from the hovering doctor so he could return home.  
  
He wouldn’t be dying on their hands.  
  
“Yes, Bruce… Tony is dying. And. That. Is. Your. Fault,”  the monster nearly sang. “How does it feel being the one to kill the person you love?” His voice was full of hate and resentment. Another claw circled around his chest, enormous and terrible, threatening to bring him pain far more physical.   
  
But Bruce didn’t care about that, and struggled fiercely to speak.  
  
“Let… him…go. This – (whatever this was) – doesn’t concern him,” he managed to gasp between heavy and painful gulps of air. How could it feel as if he could not breathe, when this was but a mental manifestation of his body? Bruce didn’t know, didn’t care, not when Tony was lying broken and in need of help.  
  
“Not on my hands, Bruce.” The devil outright laughed. “Just keep watching.”  
  
oOo  
  
Thor was flying in search of Hulk even before the Hawk had finished speaking. Luckily, their green Shield brother was not so far away that he could not find him.  
  
He looked distressed even for afar, more so than Thor had ever seen him be before – he was so furious it was a fearful sight, and so scared, for Anthony he reeked of it. The Asgardian understood that Hulk’s loved one was wounded, and as such, the green warrior ought to be upset. But this looked somewhat extreme. Was it because Anthony was unconscious and could not reassure his lover? He didn’t know. But if so, Thor could no doubt assure him and make him understand that Anthony must be brought to the healers, so he could fully recover.  
  
Surely, he could make his Shield brother realize the mistake of taking a wounded Tony away from help.  
  
Thus were his thoughts as he landed before the Hulk with such force that he broke the asphalt under his feet, stopping the big colossus course in the middle of a suburb where the houses had strangely painted walls and were very old – not nearly as tall as the majority of the buildings in New York. The few people that were on the street stopped to look at them, or just hurried back to their homes. Some took out their so-called cells, but Thor didn’t have the time to ask them away.  
  
When he saw the state his friend Anthony was in, everything else seemed to disappear, and his heart appeared to shrink inside his chest.  
  
Tony was but a pale, limp, bloody body on his lover’s strong arms. One side of the armor was crushed inward, tangled metal shards deeply nailed in his flesh. His face was salt white, drawn and pain filled, even in his unconscious state. His eyes had sunk into their sockets, and around them the skin was floured with dark, mauve smudges. His hair framed his worn face, plastered to his forehead and cheeks, drenched in sweat.   
  
Dry blood crusted on his lips, parted in need for air as Tony inhaled in hissing breaths that sounded moist and worrying.  
  
Thor needed but a minute to take it all in, and fully realize why the Hawk had sounded so distraught. Anthony was at deaths door. His fingers tightened around Mjolnir.  
  
Hulk growled, as once again that rage that wasn’t his spiked at the imposing presence of the shouty blond, demanding he smash his friend. But Hulk fought it, and just rumbled louder, gritting his teeth… until the shouty blond said something he should not have.  
  
“Friend Hulk,” he called out, “please, put Anthony down.”  
  
It was like putting a flaming torch to a puddle of oil.  
  
“NO!!”  
  
Like a switch had been flipped; yellow filled Hulk’s gaze, his heart, his entire being. And suddenly, he remembered that first time they met, and the way the fair-haired god had looked at him, like he was some kind of a beast he wanted to defeat. Like Hulk was a challenge to win. Like he was not someone, but something.  
  
The memory mixed with the present in a swirling vortex of rage, igniting his guts on fire, turning all those imaginary flames into an inferno he couldn’t hope to contain – didn’t even want to anymore.  
  
“WRROOOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!”  
  
Hulk roared like a mountain would if it could, seemed to thunder not only with his lungs and throat, but with his entire being. A sound so strong that it was felt more than heard: a terrible vibration that shook New York, and lasted for ten whole seconds. People in the streets stopped to listen and felt their hair stay on end. And if someone did scurry home after that, no one blamed him.  
  
As the last echo died out, Hulk charged.  
  
Thor didn’t duck.  
  
One reason kept him on place, through the surprise of the attack and the questions in his head; Anthony. His friend’s body was hanging lifeless from the Hulk’s arm. If he ducked and the Hulk missed the blow, both of them, Hulk and Tony, would crash into the building behind his back. Maybe the blow wouldn’t hurt his green Shield brother, but Anthony was another matter entirely. A blow such as that…  
  
And he had another reason to stay too; to take him back.     
  
The golden god strapped Mjolnir to his belt, so he could have his hands free, and braced himself as the green colossus came towards him.  
  
Hulk’s massive body slammed against Thor with enough force to knock out a titan. The impact shook up his entire being, and made his muscles spasm. However, the Asgardian god took the brunt of it without wince, feet planted firmly on the road and teeth pressed together, as the impact pushed him some hundred meters back down the street, leaving a trail of broken asphalt and cement at his feet. Then, when the impulse finally eased off and the Hulk reared back for another blow powered by the uncontrollable anger, Thor threw himself, fast as lightning, below the oncoming fist to reach for the arm still pressed securely against the green body, where the Man of Iron was nested.  
  
Without the aid of another hand to better grab his charge, Hulk could not stop Thor when he sneaked an arm around the engineer’s waist and took him, leaping away. The roar that split Hulks throat at having his mate taken away, made Thor think about rage consumed dying animals. It was painful to listen to.  
  
He wished there was a better way to do this, but his friend Hulk was not listening, and Anthony had to be carried to the healers before it was too late.  
  
“I’m sorry my friend.” he said from his very heart, “Please do not fret, he will be safe.” Mjolnir now in hand, he took to the sky with his wounded teammate pressed against his side. But they were only a few meters above the buildings when an enormous chunk of wall was thrown at them with brutal force.  
  
Unable to navigate while embracing an unconscious man, he could only curl his body around him, protecting the man of iron as best he could, a second before a brick block hit his back and head with terrible strength.   
  
The collision took the air from his lungs, made his mind blank for a second, and dislodged Mjolnir from his hand.   
  
They fell down like a rock.  
  
oOo  
  
Steve ran after Thor the second Clint finished his report, Hawkeye and Black Widow not far behind him. He was the first to arrive and see Thor and Tony plunge to the ground.  
  
His breath hitched as he ran, but he was unable to arrive in time.  
  
“Thor! Tony!”  
  
The asphalt broke as the two bodies impacted with the force of a small meteorite.  
  
Steve hurried to their side through the cement dust.  
  
Sprawled against Thor’s chest, a pale, blood-coated Tony, heaved and started to suffocate.  
  
oOo  
  
Tony had been cushioned by Thor when he fell, and shielded inside his wrecked suit; yet, the impact rattled his insides, dragging broken bones and metal shards against his already wounded flesh.  The sensation almost like being torn to shreds from the inside, brought him back to awareness and to lack of oxygen in his lungs.  
  
Tony gasped straining to fill them, but he couldn’t. They was blood inside them, allowing him to take in very small gulps of air. The suffocating sensation called forth Afghanistan, and the memories soon led to a panic attack.  
  
Tony started coughing, over and over, frantic. His wheezing sounded humid, with a few short and raspy breaths in between. His consciousness came and went; pain, panic, and blood loss fogging his brain.   
  
“WROARRRR!!!” He heard a sound, familiar like home, but it sounded wrong – it was too angry, too animalistic… “Big guy...?” he said, barely awake, “Hulk… Bruce…” he could not breathe.  
  
“Bruce…  I can´t breathe…”  
  
“Take him to the healers! I will try to calm the Hulk!”  Was it that Thor? He sounded upset, and he never sounded upset anymore, not since they all started living together in the tower…  
  
He could not breathe.  
  
“Hulk… Bruce…” He barely managed to shape the names with his bloodied lips, no air in him to make the words audible; they were just coughs… until his lungs seized up, and even the coughing had to stop.  
  
He. Could. Not. Breathe.  
  
“Tony! Breathe, come on, just breathe,” Steve urged him, taking in slow deep breaths and encouraging him to follow his lead. But Tony still panicked didn’t seem to listen. He was suffocating, unable to quiet his gaps. His eyes closing…  
  
“No, no, just look at me!”  
  
Tony gasped one last time and convulsed.  
  
  
  
To be continued.


	7. Hellys Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yellow comes.

**Three weeks  later**

(Bruce)

 

The time inside their mental land seemed sluggish, with no sun to mark the passage of the days in the ever present darkness, there was only black fire that didn´t bring any light, the voice of the monster, and the pain.

In the beginning, some of Hulks perceptions from outside broke through the barrier that separated the mind controlling the body (that of Hulks) and the ones currently trapped inside the mental land (Bruces and the monsters.)

But he had since started blocking the visions he got from Hulk. They were barely comprehensible as they were, and the agony they brought along only made the infernal blaze hotter.  Like throwing wood to a fire, since the flames were, or so he thought, the internal manifestation of his own hate.  

Bruce couldn´t say how he recognised them as such, was something he simply felt as true. Maybe because they were his emotions, and maybe because he could feel the same burning in the varely contained hate inside his chest.

Hate for his situation, for the monster, for his own helplessness… A hate so strong…

At the start bare embers, now a roaring inferno that was consuming him.

Bruce didn´t know what day it was, how much time had come and went… what had fared Tony… if years had passed, or only a few hours.

Since he became trapped by the creature, the timeless quality of this place that had always been so peaceful for Bruce- before the fire and the abomination came- had become one more of the pieces of the Hell the monster had created for him. How could his mind landscape, so serene back them, have hidden such evil trapped inside all along.

Now in the darkness, surrounded by the black fire, Bruce sat on the ground folded in meditation like pose. Eyes closed to the vision of his charred flesh, chanting in the silence of his thoughts. 

 _“…ny… Tony… Tony…”_ it hurts _“…Tony… To…”_ it burns “ _… ny…”_

His skin was covered in blisters and scabs of singed flesh (what passed for flesh in this mental land).

Blood and melted fat oozed from the busted bubbles of meat that kept on popping painfully; wounds that sizzled in the heat and the flames, developing where his clothes couldn´t protect him, all over his face and his hands – everywhere.

His shirt and trousers were a sodden mess drenched in nasty, reeking fluids, and clinging to his salt-pale body like a filthy membrane. His locks dangled limply from his forehead, looking more like putrid seaweed than actual strands of hair…

It was disgusting, yet, Bruce could barely register it among the pain that racked his frame.

The floor was boiling hot and burning his legs through his scorched trousers.

The stench of his sweltering flesh was horrible.

The pain was unbearable.

But Bruce had a lot of experience with unbearable pain. He knew how to make himself as still as rock, and more importantly, to be as resistant. A barely there shudder became the only visible sign of his distress.  But not even rock is everlasting. And the pain, the exhaustion, the anxiety… were slowly wearing him down.

Bruce knew he was near his breaking point, he knew the yellow monster was waiting for it, circling him, trying to feed the fire. It spoke gut-wrenching words full of lies… _They had to be lies,_ Bruce thought.

“ _You know Tony is dead, Don´t you?”_  It laughed. 

Bruce didn´t listen to him because Tony was fine. He had to be.

 _“Tony, Tony…”_ He chanted, and tried to remember the exact shade of brown Tony’s eyes shone when he smiled… but it was getting difficult. The memories were fading from his grasp, the way old paper loses its colours and shapes. It was still enough to keep the hate at bay for a little more time. However that wouldn´t last for much longer.   

At the start, when the fire began, the happy memories could block the hate well on their own.  But by now the strain had eaten away at them. Trapped by the monster and unable to leave, Bruces resolve had become his only armour, but it was getting increasingly difficult to maintain when he could barely sit straight.  His shoulders were slumping and his back arching, his mind was getting more sluggish by the second…

He was not made of super stuff like the Hulk, could not take it forever, but he was stubborn, and even if he couldn´t escape by himself, he would keep holding on, until his team, –…Tony, Tony, Tony…he kept on thinking over and over again–  found a way to rescue him. Because even if he couldn’t trust anyone else, even if he would have preferred they never became involved, the better part of the last two years had nearly convinced him of this: he could trust those five incredible people to catch him.

He had to hope they were going to stop the monster now that he couldn’t do it on his own, even if their help meant he would have to let them know of yet another monster inside himself.

 

**oOo**

Tony came awake by degrees, gradually gaining awareness of his surroundings: the steady hum of  machinery, hushed voices, a very recognisable smell of cleanness, chemicals, and bland food, then he became aware of his aching limbs through the fog muddling his thoughts, recognizable as the after-effects of some very severe sedatives.

_“A hospital, I’m in a hospital. Fuck, Bruce is going to be pissed that I ended up in surgical again.”_

Just thinking about Bruce made Tony want to see his lover’s smile.

 “Hey, you can start cheering now. The sexy billionaire is awake.” Tony announced with a dry, rasping croak and his usual cheeky smile, pretending he was still half-asleep. Even if smiling made his lips feel like they have been rubbed with sand, and then salt for good measure, Tony knew it would totally be worth the effort for the dry but fond remark about stupidity being an incurable illness, which he knew Bruce was just about to make.

Or at least would have, had he been in the room. Because when Tony opened his eyes, weary of the bright light that usually shone in every hospital room (whether it was one of the many in SHIELD’s headquarters, or some high-class institution Pepper had deemed adequate for his health care) he realized his lover was nowhere to be seen. Nor was anyone celebrating.

Where was Clint when Tony needed him? And where was Bruce?

The room was relatively small, plain, sterile, no windows, a single door with a hi-tech lock… it was one of SHIELD’s helicarrier medical rooms, that much he could see on his own. There being only two good things: the first one were the machines providing him with oxygen and fluids, and the second the presence of two of his friends: Steve and Pepper. The conversation they had been having (which he had been only vaguely registering) came to an abrupt halt with his words.

During the shocked ominous silence that ensued, Tony was able to take a proper look at them, and see how tired and worn they appeared under the bright white light.

Pepper’s dark suit had little wrinkles along planes that usually were ironed to perfection. Her hair didn’t look anything like her usual luscious ginger locks anymore – it was dull and lifeless, as dull and lifeless as was looking her pale skin. Even so, the most telling signals of her distress were the  dark circles around her heavy and tired eyes, which Tony could see even under the timeworn makeup.

This was not a result of a few sleep-deprived work related nights– Tony knew that kind, he had seen it many times before, and this wasn´t it. They reminded him of smudged dark stains, a look that he only had watched appear when exhaustion went beyond body and mind.

They were the junk born of sadness and quiet desperation rather than fatigue. The ones that make the usual dark circles around the eyes look pale and healthy in comparison. 

Pepper seemed to be at the end of her rope.

And Steve didn’t look much better. 

Standing there dressed in his dirty uniform, cowl drawn globes off, streaks of sweat and grime on his face, hair and hands, Steve looked exhausted; like he had been fighting for much too long. The aura of the battle was still so heavily obvious in his darkened eyes and messy hair, Tony could nearly smell it.

When Steve looked at him, gladness blossomed on his tired face for a second, before some other dark emotion dimmed his blue eyes again, taking away the momentary respite.

That made the smile on Tony’s face flicker and die, the forlorn aura inside the room finally overwhelming him, too. Something was very wrong… Bruce was not here…

He then remembered in a flash of painful images that Bruce had been about to abandon him not so long ago.

“Where’s Bruce?” he asked instantly.

Pepper placed a delicate hand on his arm, her touch so frail and so delicate, meant to be comforting. It only strained Tony’s heart more –his arc-reactor seemed to weigh a ton. He knew the sensation couldn’t be real, but the way his heart seemed to contract felt very much like that.

“How are you feeling?” she asked instead of answering his question. And the genius recognized straightaway that the situation was bad. Really bad.

He knew that tone very well; had heard it many times before…  It meant Pepper was truly worried and trying to shield her boss and friend from pain she felt was too much.

And Tony didn’t want to add to the strain she was under. If Bruce really had left him, he didn’t want Pepper seeing his pain. The experience would fracture his spirit enought, and he refused to drag her down with him. Tony needed to know, that at least one essential part of his life- his oldest and best friend- was going to be left whole, when Bruce was gone.

His optimism returned as quickly as it was gone. Putting the mask on  was easier than it should have been.

“I’m ok, just a little beat up. Nothing I didn’t go through before in other more pleasurable settings.” - Tony grinned, not really managing to fool her, but succeeding  in getting a small sad smile on her lips.

“Tony…” she exhaled.

“Aaaand I’m also hungry,” he interrupted again, pointing at his stomach. “Could you bring me a burger?” he made a pretty nice imitation of a beatific, pleading faced child and hoped she would just go along with the charade.

“You are not supposed to eat that kind of fat…” Pepper said.

“Come on, how is that fair? I’m an injured man…” Tony barely managed to stifle a glad sigh when she went along with it.

“… But I can bring you a sandwich,” she retorted in an imitation of her usual exasperated amusement, getting up from the chair beside the bed that she had been sitting on, and taking her purse with her.

“A sandwich? Good, that’s good. Bring one, or maybe two. Hey, Cap here is hungry too, make it two dozen sandwiches,” Tony smiled, speaking in a hurried excited monologue, so that there would be no place for anyone else to get a word in. And kept on going until he was sure Pepper was out of the room and out of earshot, leaving him with Steve alone inside. Then, and only then, did Tony let the false cheerfulness wither away, a serious pained expression overtaking his features.

For a minute neither of them spoke.

Steve rose silently from the chair near the door and took seat at the side of the bed. The movement was so stiff it looked he was about to rise and strike something. The darkness obscuring his features didn´t discourage the barely contained anger sensation.

Yet Tony could see what Steve was feeling was not so much anger as it was self-blame. It was as if the emotion was draped around Cap’s shoulders, which were not proudly squared, as was usual, and were instead slumped. Steve’s posture was as telling as a spoken admission of his feelings. At least for the ones who knew him well.

Identifying it only tightened the chocking hold dread had around his heart, increasing its beating to a drum like rhythm, mad and desperate, thrumming in his ears like thunder.

“Steve,” he greeted his friend, face devoid of the turmoil inside his mind “What happened?”

One of the monitors beeped warningly when his pulse rate became erratic, but it elicited absolutely no response from the dejected men.

 “We don’t need to have this conversation now, Tony. You should rest.” Steve said in the reassuring tone he usually used as Captain America, so that it would not seem like he was pitying Tony, which was something he knew his friend didn’t take well. But the worry was still evident on his face, and it was clear that he was trying to spare Tony pain.  

The effort only managed to further increase the dread that had settled in the genius billionaire.

“Tell me,” Tony deadpanned.

“Tony, let it be for now.” Cap tried to brush it off again, but his face cracked under the strain of the previous weeks, and his sorrow and worry seeped from the fractures like too bright light.

It was too intense and painful to watch, so Tony just… looked away, and let it go. He felt too tired and pained, too tattered inside to hurt his friend.  

“Ok, but if I’m expected to lay in here for who knows how long, I will have to ask for a TV,” he reverted to the capricious billionaire facade; all smiles and no seriousness, a totally self-absorbed man.

Steve just huffed thankfully, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He knew this was Tony’s way of letting the confrontation drop, and he couldn’t express how thankful he was to have been granted a little more time of his quirky remarks. The moment his friend learned the truth, he would get so low, become so enraged and wounded… 

Tony wasn’t anywhere near healthy, and Steve could not watch his friend put himself in danger again so shortly after nearly having him die in his arms, so he remained silent.

 “I’m serious, I want a TV, Steve. A damn good one. Not the garbage Fury puts in his reunion rooms. What kind of spy organization uses Pleistocenic TV screens? Maybe he thinks they are vintage, I don’t know.  Embarrassing, that’s what they are,” Tony pointed at a shameful screen that wasn’t there.

Steve smiled and rose from his seat. By now he knew Tony’s tactics too well not to recognize his need for some privacy.

“It’s ok Tony, I will bring you a TV,” he said with a slight note of teasing in his very tired voice. But underneath the playful tone of his words was an undercurrent of seriousness Tony didn’t fail to notice: “Just don’t try to leave the room, ok? You are not in any condition to wander the Helicarrier.”

 “I will be as quiet as a church mouse.” Tony raised a hand in a mock scout promise.

Steve just shook his head, still smiling.

“Will you need something else? Since I’m going out.”

“Ice-cream! Ice-cream is always good.”

“I will bring you some,” Steve said at the door. “You just rest.”

“I will, I will,” Tony shushed his friend.

Steve waved back and left the room, the door closing after him. 

The second he was gone, Tony took out the objet he had been hiding under the blanket; polychromatic planes in white, blue and red caught his sight. Steve’s Stark phone gleamed under the harsh white light, with the pattern of the American flag Tony had personally selected (he just loved to annoy Steve), shining in his hands.

“I knew Natasha’s lessons were going to be useful someday,” Tony told himself, easily bypassing Steve’s password (he had designed the thing himself, after all), opened the hidden application that enabled the Avengers access to their main information source. “Hey Jarvis, long time no see.”

“It’s always a pleasure to hear from you, Sir.” Jarvis’ smooth voice came from the speakers, smaller than he accustomed to. Tony knew his AI would never admit it, but in that instant, the British voice sounded sincerely relieved to hear from his creator.

“Lets see what Cap wanted to hide.”

**oOo**

(Steve)

Finding a TV wasn’t very difficult; Steve only had to locate some clerk who could help him. Now, as he waited for it to be delivered in his care, he made use of the time to wash himself of the grime still clinging to his face and hands.

He should have cleaned before going to see how Tony was faring, but Thor and he had been battling Dooms bots longer than they had foreseen and the continuous worry about his health he had been harbouring for the last three weeks, had made Steve need the reassurance of seeing him before anything else.  

Now that Tony was awake, his worry didn´t disappear, it just changed to an imperative need of keeping him safe…  Even if it meant he had to guard silence about Bruce. Because if Tony knew, he would put himself in danger again, and his body, not fully healed, wouldn´t sustain more damage so soon after the last. Natasha had already warned him about this. He had to remain silent on the matter until Bruce was home again… or Tony was healthy enough to help. It was the only way to keep their friend away from harm.

Steve decided to check his phone for Natasha’s and Clint’s progress… when he found his phone was not in the pocket he had put it in when he returned to the Helicarrier from the battle.

“Tony!”

Trepidation filled his chest.

**oOo**

(Tony and Steve)

 

He ran back to the room, hoping against all odds that he made it in time. But as he barged inside, his hair still damp, he was already too late.

His phone was in Tony’s hands, and from it came the Hulk’s mindless roars ~~,~~ his own shouts and Thor’s screams. Then, Tony pressed something on the screen, and the recording ended. His expression so guarded Steve couldn’t tell if there were any feelings behind.

“Tony…” Steve tried, but did not know how much he had seen, and what he could say to stop his imminent breakdown. It was like seeing a mountain of debris slowly tip impossible to be stopped.

“Where did he take Bruce?” Tony lifted his gaze to look Steve in the eyes.

Steve crept closer with impossibly slow steps. It felt like he was walking through sticky gel.

“Tony…”

“ _Just fucking tell me, Steve_!” Tony exploded with anger, and tried to get up from the bed, but his body failed him and he collapsed to his knees on the floor.

“Tony!” Steve managed to grab Tony by the shoulders before his upper body collided with the tiles.

It was a little too hard and painful on Tony’s abused muscles and broken ribs, but Tony didn’t care. He hated feeling helpless, hated the way Steve was looking at him, and he hated more than anything the horrible feeling of knowing Bruce needed him and he wasn’t there by his side.

The rage, the dread, and the pain he felt were unbearable. 

“Where is Bruce?” He asked again, using what little air was still left in his lungs, after the force from the impact took nearly all his oxygen. His voice was raw, full of resentment and hurt, overflowing with the hate he felt that very instant.

For a second, Steve could only stare at his friend, pale and fierce and so very frail. Taking in his bruised body, the tubes and wires connecting his chest and wrist to the machines, the faintly green hospital gown that only made the pallor of his body look sicker than it should be, the pain so very clear on his face…

All these things reminded him of how Tony nearly died on his arms only three weeks ago. That memory kept turning up in his nightmares, together with the ones of Bucky and the war.

The only difference was that this man he so desperately wished to protect was still alive. A fact that made Steve want to shield Tony from anything, and anyone, who could wish to hurt him. A want that rendered his next words an excruciating need.

He had hoped to have more time; time for Tony to became healthy again, and for Clint and Natasha to do their job, but…. There wasn´t any time left.

“We lost Hulk two weeks ago. A week after we brought you here. But Bruce had been gone days before that.”

“So… he is gone. That’s what you are saying?”  Tony hissed bitterly, his fingers instinctively gripping at Steve’s uniform. “Because he would not change back?” His chest felt like it was about to collapse, but he could no longer tell if it was actually something physical, or a consequence of the horrible emotional pain.

Tony didn’t see Steve’s full of sorrow gaze, didn’t feel the way his arms sneaked around his body, to hug him against a warm, though still dirty chest. The uniform smelled of sweat, grime, blood and gunpowder.

Somehow, the familiarity of such scents helped.

Steve’s reply rumbled inside his chest and against his cheek.

“When you were injured in the explosion, Bruce lost control, and Hulk became berserker. He could have killed you; he nearly did trying to take you with him.” The fear of the moment he thought Tony was dead permeated his words and raised his voice in painful anger. His fingers dug into Tony’s flesh in response, making sure he was there. “Thor had to engage in combat with him and is still covered in bruises, and Clint had to fire all his Hulk tranquilizer arrows to stop him. Even then, after he awoke in the Helicarrier, he didn’t change back. He just started pounding the walls of the new adamantium room until we had to tranq him again. It went on like that for a week. He wouldn’t listen, he wouldn’t stop unless he was unconscious. He did nothing, save to smash everything in his reach. We tried, Tony, but Hulk…” his voice became gentle, as if tempering the sound could soften his next words. “…Ross was somehow informed of it, and convinced the Council Hulk was a danger SHIELD wasn’t going to properly take care of.” Those were only excuses to experiment with him, they both knew that, but did not acknowledge it out loud. “He said Bruce was gone, and only the monster remained.”

“Bruce is not gone, and Hulk is not a monster,” the genius clenched his teeth. “There must be a reason why he’s not changing back.”

“That’s what we are hoping, too, Tony, that’s why the team is trying to take him back.” Determination filled his words with something that sounded very much like hope, yet… “We don’t know where Ross has taken Hulk, but Clint and Natasha are doing their best at infiltrating his contacts network.

Steve tried to find the words that could convey the other discouraging things he had to say. Because Tony may have watched the videos, but was not there to see how Hulk lost more and more control, hour after hour, day after day. He didn’t see his mindless brutal anger, the way he even lost the ability to recognize his friends as the end was nearing, He wasn’t there to see how they lost their teammate, unable to do anything. Not the agony of not knowing for days if Tony was even going to make it. They were very close to losing two members of their family. They lost one for the time being, (at least until Natasha and Clint could find where Ross hid Hulk, he told himself), but they could still lose both if he didn’t manage to clear the situation up for Tony, and if they failed to bring Bruce back.  He didn’t want to see him too hopeful, just to watch as the hope and the inability to make it real tore the genius to pieces little by little.

“But Tony… you have to remember that we already tried everything we could think of, and Bruce still didn’t come back.” With those words he helped his friend back into bed, before he could protest the treatment. “You need to rest.”

“I need to help find Bruce.” He protested, but suddenly felt very tired…

Steve watched as the morphine took hold of Tony and the sleep claimed him in seconds, the remote of the IV resting in his hand, and the regret at having had to do so eating his guts.

Yet, it was the only way he could think of that would make the genius rest. Tony didn’t feel how injured he really was, full of painkillers as he was. But he had four broken ribs, extensive muscle bruising, and a barely healed punctured lung. He was in no shape to go back to working day and night. Not with the kind of intensity,( Steve knew), he would work for Bruce.

“Let Clint and Natasha do their work, they are the best at what they do. I promise, Tony, they will find Bruce.”

**oOo**

 (Bruce)

 

“ _Tony… Ton….ny…”_

The name had become a mantra to soothe the hate and anger that threatened to consume him; A fire that was becoming hotter, raising higher … and thinking was turning difficult.

The creature laughed at his pain.  

Bruce was getting weaker... the monster, however, was getting stronger every day.

“… _Tony… Tony…Tony…”_

The creature – an enormous being – shifted in the darkness. He could not see it, but without a doubt felt its sickening presence.

 “¿You know he is dead, don’t you?” It whispered again, like it had been doing day after day for maybe weeks now. 

Bruce didn’t react.

It was lying, he knew this. But the doubt slowly started sinking in, as the memory – brief as it was – of Tony’s bloodied body in Hulk’s arms, started to invade more and more of his mind.

_“…Tony…”_

He didn’t know what would happen if he broke down, but the dread he felt was enough to give him the strength to resist a little longer.

_“Tony.”_

**oOo**

 

(Pepper)

 

It was already night, and Pepper had been sitting beside Tony’s bed for hours, working on her tablet ever since Steve and Thor had been called to duty again, unwilling to leave him alone.   Since Clint and Natasha had Fury’s unofficial permission to go find Bruce, Steve and Thor had to handle all other missions the Avengers where needed on, (two Avengers not as efficient as six) she had been nearly constantly here.

And the strain of it was starting to show.

At the start Pepper had been afraid if she left, Tony would suddenly stop breathing, and now that he was out of danger, she feared losing him for entirely different reasons. Since, she, better than most, knew how difficult was to gain access to Tonys heart, and how auto destructive could Tony become in his quest to save the ones he loves. If he was not allowed to help save Bruce, he would find his own way.

A way that was usually way more dangerous than needed.

 “Tony, I know you are awake.” She saved the last file, and smiled tiredly at her friend and boss, trying not to let her sadness and worry show too much.

He stopped pretending be sleeping and looked at her.

“Pepper.”

“Take this and find Bruce.” She handed him her Stark Tablet, refraining from any other comments. “Just promise me that you won’t go to his rescue alone.” A promise that could go unattended, she knew, that´s why she had recruited Jarvis to warn her about such attempt.

Tony took the device from her hands, sitting up.

“Thank you, Pepper.”

She smiled a little more brightly.

“Don´t thank me, just find him.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best thing she could have done, but she knew it was the right thing to do. Bruce was too important to Tony for him to lose him now.

 

**oOo**

**Three days later.**

(Ross)

Ross strode in the enormous laboratory crowded with scientists and assistants who worked diligently on various last-generation devices and computers with perfect synchronization. An excited scientific discussion seemed to be taking place among all of them at once: they were giving and taking in ideas so fast Ross could not understand anything.

But he was not here to listen to the staff; he came to debrief the chief scientist.

It took him less than a few seconds to find the small man in his late forties, with a greying, dirty brown military haircut, and grey, tired eyes. His name was Colvin and he was in charge of the project of replicating Hulk’s capabilities. He could easily be spotted at the main computer, observing what seemed to be a few DNA helixes.

Ross walked over to his side, and the man lifted his gaze to look at him with an enormous smile that showed his too big teeth, more excited than Ross had ever seen him. It looked promising.

“What are the results of the last tests?” he asked the scientist.

“Oh, this is incredibly exciting. We already knew about his capability of regeneration, but this is simply sublime. We have found a correlation between the amount of pain inflicted and the amount of strength gained  on a cellular level.” He taped something on the keyboard with barely contained excitement  and a new set of schematics came to life on the screen. “Do you see it?” He asked the General in a breathy voice.

Ross could not help but to harden his gaze at the scientist, his eyes full of veiled disgust.

“No, I’m not a scientist,” he said,  and it sounded as it being even a little like Colvin was a disgracing and diminishing thought no one should even contemplate.

The sentiment went completely over Colvin’s head, not even registering in his brain focused only on new possibilities.

“That doesn’t matter,” he gestured, waving off his boss’ inability to understand the facts. “The potential of such a breakthrough, when we succeed in extracting the cellules that manage the reaction, will be endless. We could make soldiers whose bodies would not only regenerate, but would even draw strength from the wounds! They would be unstoppable, and whatever the enemy did to them would only strengthen our men! The serum will revolutionize the concept of war!”

Ross felt his lips curl in satisfaction. This was what he had been trying to accomplish ever since the green monster came to life and managed to escape his grasp.

“And when will this serum be prepared?”

Colvin scratched his head.

“Well… it’s difficult to estimate. The process of isolating the cellules and replicating the…”

“ **How. Long**?”

The scientist shrugged.

“Maybe two years, if we manage to find the genetic marker without much trouble. We will need more advanced instruments to properly stimulate his pain receptors.”

“That’s…”

CRAAAAAACK!!!! Out of nowhere the sound reverberated through the room.

Suddenly, all the walls shuddered, the floor filled with cracks, like an egg about to be broken through the inside, and everything started to fall apart as a colossal yellow leviathan emerged from the basement.

The screams began.

**oOo**

(Bruce)

…. He… could not take it… anymore. 

“….To… ny…” His mind was scattered and fractured. What colour where Tony’s eyes? ... He thought that sometime, long ago, they had been some other, warmer shade, but now he could only remember them black.

Black as coal, just like the flames surrounding him.

The monster roared in triumph.

**oOo**

(Tony)

Three days of barely any sleep, uninterrupted work, and painful dread that only became heavier with time finally came to fruition when Tony found what he had been so desperately searching for.

There it was in the tablet, highlightened in clear blue letters:

_Doctor Banner’s location verified with 93% of accuracy._

The program he had created to cross-validate every movement and transaction any military base under Ross’ command took part in finally gave him a likely match: Reborn base, Wisconsin.

“Jarvis, send the Mark VII to the deck B of the Helicarrier, I’m on my way,” he told his friend, who was listening through the tablet.

“Sir, your vitals are still low and the damage to your heart and lungs is not sufficiently taken care of for you to partake in a rescue mission. It’s unadvisable…”

“Jarvis, send the Mark VII and let me worry about my health,” Tony cut the tirade of reasons he should not go about, already disconnecting the wires and tubes from his chest and wrists.

“Should I inform the rest of the team?” 

He remembered Peppers words, and the promise he did not, in fact, make.

“Wait until I’m there.” They would try to stop him from going if they knew what he was up to.

“…As  you wish, Sir.” Jarvis voice answered from the tiny amplifiers on the device, in a sarcastic clip.

“Don’t worry Jarvis, I will be back with Bruce before you know it,” Tony managed to smile reassuringly at the tablet, since sarcastic replies, such as this one, were his AI’s way of expressing concern. Then he rose from the bed, thankful for the drugs still coursing his system, and put on top of the hospital pyjama the jacket Thor had forgot in the chair, last time he was here yesterday.

_I’m on my way, Bruce._

By the time anyone became aware of his absence, he had already sneaked out.

 

**oOo**

(Steve)

“Tony, listen. Natasha and Clint had already found the place, and they’re going to infiltrate the building tomorrow. You have to come back, we can’t go in there head first, the Council…”

“The Council won’t make me leave Bruce in there for one more second Steve. So you can either come and help, or I’m going to do this myself!” Tony replied through the speakers of the armour, as he fled on his way to where Bruce was being held. _Dam Pepper for calling Steve, and dam Jarvis for calling her._   

“Tony, I know how you feel…”

“Jarvis, cut the communications.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Now he was so close to taking Bruce out of Ross’ hands, the memory he had been suppressing for days, came down and made itself known; it was the one a sleepless night he and Bruce passed tucked against each other, on the sofa in their laboratory. Bruce couldn’t sleep and Tony was tired beyond belief after three days of working on their last project. It was peaceful, one of those rare times; when both of their minds slowed enough to fully connect in a way far deeper than the simply sharing and understanding each other’s ideas, which was the way they usually connected through. It was then that Bruce spokeabout the nightmares that wouldn’t let him sleep sometimes; about the time he had been hunted from one place to the next and about the things Ross had done to him and to Hulk when he had managed to capture them. He wasn’t imprisoned for too long – a few days at most, before Hulk was able to break free, but still, it had felt like torture that stretched beyond time and space. Sometimes, in those increasingly rare times when he felt so low he could barely remember anything good that had ever happened to him, he still felt like he was there. Like he didn´t come out whole. That’s when Tony had kissed him, reminded him he was not alone, that he was not in danger any more, with warm skin and hotter, sweeter, words.

That was why he could not leave Bruce there a second more.

So he raced fast against the darkening clouds of the rapidly dying day, a red and golden silhouette, against a red and grey sky.

**oOo**

He saw the smoke before he did the place: a black column between the mountains where the base was supposed to be. His heart lurched, and Tony managed to speed his progress up to a crazy pace. In mere minutes he reached the peak of the mountains surrounding the valley, surpassing them to see the buildings they were hiding.

What met his eyes was nothing short of a nightmare. The largest building had crumbled into itself like a hollow shell, and the smaller ones had been destroyed by something enormous that had levelled them to the ground. The helicopters and vehicles scattered around the place where demolished into scraped metal, most of them still on fire. Yet, when he descended to the base, what really sent chills through his spine was not the material destruction, but the bodies of men and women alike, soldiers and scientists, that where disseminated around the base. They have been trying to escape, and the thing that had demolished the place had hunted and killed every single one of them. The human corpses where nauseating; body parts had been torn off, still warm guts painting the asphalt and cement in red and brown, unseeing eyes full of horror, and the horrible stench of death that oozed from all of this which he could smell even through the armour’s air filters. They hadn’t had any help, and even when the smoke reached high enough to be visible from very far away, there weren’t inhabitants in the surrounding area to see it and send help.

Tony landed in front of what had been the largest building. His body was suddenly covered in icy sweat and he felt himself start trembling with shudders he could barely control upon seeing all that destruction. He was unable to reconcile Hulk’s goofy smile, with the massacre that was before him.

 _He could not have done this, he could not have_ , Tony told himself firmly, just as a blood-curling scream tore from inside of what remained of the structure ahead. It was a man’s voice, and Tony raced inside without thinking. There he was greeted by rubble, destroyed equipment, broken wires that had sparks flying out of them, and busted pipes that had flooded the floors.

 “Sir, I can identify two life signals, one is human and the other emits an enormous gamma radiation field, and seems to be eleven point three times bigger than the human, but its signature doesn’t fully match Hulk’s one. Sir, you should wait for the rest of the team to arrive.”

“I can’t wait that long, Jarvis.”

Tony flew through the halls when he could, and ran the rest of the time through water and debris, searching for the man whose voice rose at intervals in unabashed agony. His road suddenly came to a halt when the floor disappeared in an enormous hole bigger than half the building. The water from the busted pipes fell down in an impromptu waterfall, against something enormous and yellow in the bottom…

It was two times bigger than Hulk, looked like a cross between a human and a tough massive reptile, and had rough, scaly skin, the yellow of bile.

Tony thought about wingless dragons.

“What…?”

The colossal monster raised its head, like feeling Tony’s gaze upon it, and smelled the air for a second… until he found Tony. Yellow white-less eyes, pinned him with their elongated black pupils.

In just a second, with only one gaze at it, Tony knew this creature was one thing: _evil_.

“I was waiting for you, Tony.”

**To be continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter has been terrible to write, between the exams and the work my beta and I had been about to lose our mind, but finally here you have the 7 chapter of Evil Hulk. It would surely take time to write the next part, since we are both so occupied, but don´t worry, the fic won´t be left unfinished. ^^ Have a good summer and we hope to see you soon. ;)


	8. Of love and blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His darker instincts without brake, rolled together into a new person. The worst of Bruce Banner put together, but still the same man he so dearly loved.

“ _ I was waitting for you Tony.”      _

A  new wail broke up in agony, calling to Tony's senses  from far below the broken  edge, of the first floor, he was at.

 

Down the huge crater, at the bottom of the second basement and between the huge feet of the monster, a body… what remained of it at least, could be seen. 

 

Rabid with pain trashing mangled limbs, pinned to a broken wall by huge metal debris, and looking not so different from a gory butterfly specimen. Bones and guts stock out of flesh, dripping strikingly red blood, down dull metal and hard concrete, painting a terrible picture of horror. 

 

It took the engineer thirty whole seconds to identify the barely familiar man.  

 

“Ross?”- Oh fuck. 

 

“ Yes, him.- the yellow creature hissed,gifting him a sharp smile of fangs like teeth.- I could have killed him but… it wouldn't have been as… satisfying.  

 

Tony was not unblemished by the taste of revenge, nor were his hands clean of blood. But this was taking it to a whole new level of psycho. 

 

“You should tone down the gore here, pall. It's getting out of hand.” As always, when nervous, he got talkative. 

 

Surprisingly, his words made the dragon-like creature break in laughter. A loud booming sound of cruel mirth. 

 

“You are such a dork for a genius.” the words came with a somewhat fond gaze.  And the familiarity of it made Tony's mind spin. 

 

“...Bruce?”  he called unthinkingly, taking out his face plate so he could see with his own eyes the enormous expanse of yellow scaly skin, the evil slanted pupils, the too knowing smirk… 

 

There's only one who names Tony so exasperatedly, and so caringly at the same time. A tiny sliver of recognition lighted his chest like a conflagration. Made his ribcage  too tight for the ark reactor.

 

But his calling Bruce's name contorted, Bruce's, yellow Hulk's?, face into a snarl.

 

“No, not him.- Yellow Hulk, he would call him Yellow Hulk for now, hissed- That weak, pathetic man is asleep as of now.- As fast as the hiss came, it morphed into a new smirk-  But do not worry, he has Hulk for company.” 

 

The confirmation, in not such words, of having found his lover, dispelled some of the painful ache that, for days, had eaten the engineer from the inside. His mind reeled taking all in as fast it could, his heart ached from the need to touch, to taste, to confirm with more than words and sight that Bruce was alive, whole, and here. Even if in another alter ego form of his. 

 

He took a step forward, unthinking. 

 

An enormous hand curled loosely around his body, sharp claws resting on his flank, where the old armour had dented inwards, and his wounds were still mending. 

 

The soft clicking sound of nail against metal filled the sudden silence, as Tony posed a hand on the scaly skin, wishing he had taken the gauntlet out, so he could feel it. 

 

“Are you afraid?” ,His lover whispered. 

 

“No.” Tony offered back. One such word of perfect calm and dead seriousness.“Such a stupid question to ask.”

 

Yellow Hulk chuckled quietly at his words, like doing it despite himself. 

 

“Not even after you have seen all the people I have killed in this base? Not after what I have done to Ross?” His hand tightened around the armour, not uncomfortably, but stiff enough to hint at darker things. 

 

Tony didn't spare a glance to the quietly whimpering man at the bottom of the  crater, didn't need to. The image fresh in his mind, the smell of blood strong on his nostrils. 

 

“No. Not afraid sweetie.” He smiled, his mind clicking in place, understanding what this was about. 

 

Beneath the bravado and cruelty, beyond the terrible hate, it was easy to see the ever present fears of  Bruce's;  abandonment, loneliness, fear of not being enough, of himself and for others, playing behind the Yellows actions. 

 

This was Bruce taking extreme revenge at the ones who had hurt him time and again. 

 

This was Bruce pushing his beloved away, to see how far his love stretched before shattering.

 

His darker instincts without brake, rolled together into a new person. The worst of Bruce Banner put together, but still the same man he so dearly loved.

 

And Tony wouldn't leave him, be he green, yellow, or fucking  pink. 

 

“Wanna try something else? I won't ditch you for having a bad day, you know?” His smile grew larger at the softening of the grab. The large hand became a caressing warm around him, as the cruelty slowly melted from the poisonous irises, swallowed by guarded wonder and too familiar warmth.

 

The biley yellow giving way to kind brown...

 

“Let's go home.” Tony asked. 

 

That's when everything broke in shards.

 

**oOo**

 

“TONY!!” Steve's voice cut through the fragile moment, booming in ignorance and fear. Thus, he attacked before knowing anything more than what he saw; an injured friend at the hands of a  monster. 

 

His shield struck a yellow eye, and came back to his hand, leaving blood and a ravenous roar behind. 

 

“Steve No!”, Tony shouted, but it was like moving underwater. Slow, too slow to stop anything. 

 

He was suddenly cold, bereft of the warm hand around his body, as the afore kind fist, struck Steve, sending him sprawling to the floor with the force of a train wreck, just when the other Avengers entered the place.

 

No word could have stopped what came next. 

 

It was a lost battle from the start.

 

Yellow Hulk, far stronger and bigger than the Hulk, had no difficulty in handing two humans, and a super soldier. Where was Thor was anyone's guess. Maybe back in Asgard, maybe caught in some other mission. Tony didn't know, he just saw the God was not there, and felt the obvious absence achingly.

 

It took no longer than a minute for the brawl to end, too fast for Tony to decipher his own feelings and react, caught between his love, friendship, and the utter stupidity of the situation. 

 

If only they would listen… and they called him the unthinking before acting, one. 

 

Steve ended sprawled across a pile of debris, bloody and twitching with the will to get up, but unable to do so.

 

Clint was unconscious, his bow broken and his arm oddly bent. 

 

Natasha remained protectively squat at the archers side, her knife defensively held as her gun had been emptied already without effect, the uniform torn,  bruises blooming in her too fair skin. 

 

This was the moment Tony encountered himself in. Suddenly keenly aware of the harsh breaths of his comrades, his dear friends, even when he never calls them such aloud. 

 

They can no longer fight, that much is evident, and the yellow alter ego  of his lover has stopped on his assault too. But… that's when he sees a new, thin like a blade, smile, blossom in his mouth. Grasp its true meaning when he lifts his hand quite deliberately, and embeds an enormous claw in the Captain’s leg.

 

Steve howls and Tony shout's.

 

“STOP!”

 

Yellow Hulk looks at him with a bloody eye. The one responsible for it panting in pain.

 

“Why should I? He attacked first and now is getting what he deserves.”, he hissed voice granting like rocks. Twisted his nail a little deeper, taking pleasure in the responding groan. 

 

Tony took a step nearer, trying as hard he could to look calm and nonchalant, very much aware the Yellow Hulk was not a compassionate or understanding being.

 

“Steve's not the most bright one, that's true. He made a mistake, but he doesn't deserve to have his leg torn off.”

 

“Doesn't he?”, the already cruel smile, turns feral. “Why do you protect him, Tony?”, his voice gets frost biting in its coldness, “Think I don't notice the looks you exchange? Your late nights and his early risings, when you stay alone on the kitchen?”

 

Tony stops speechless at the absurdity of the accusation. 

 

“That's not…” 

 

“SILENCE!” It's a sound of painfully taken fury and unseen wounds, that which leaves his beloved's throat, strong as the tide and just as quivering. Tony found himself silenced by it, as the claw was unplugged from their friend flesh, and blood gushed out, red like the cuts he could now guess inside Bruce.

Still the flow of biting raw words did not stop.

 

“Maybe Bruce's too weak to speak, but I'm NOT! AND I WILL NOT BE PUSHED DOWN BY HIM THIS TIME, SO  **YOU WILL LISTEN!”** he bellowed. His hand flies fast and hard against the already broken floor not far from where Tony stais. So hard was the hit it broke another section of the tiles, and what remained of the wrecked shell of the building trembled at the verge of collapsing. “If I so much as catch you looking at him, I'm gonna flay Stevie alive, TILL THERE'S NOTHING THERE TO LIKE! Have I make myself clear?”

 

Tony should had kept his mouth shut, but he had never been good at doing the sensible thing. 

 

“I will look and speak to whom I fucking want to, because this is stupid. You are jealous of nothing but a friend.  **You** are the one I love!” There, he had said it aloud, something he always had problems to voice out loud away from the privacy of their own rooms. “Why would I want to cheat on you with anyone, let alone someone with whom I can't even have a decent conversation?”

 

“Tony…”, Steve tries to warn him between clenched, crimson painted, teeth,  finally understanding the situation. Fear for Tony clear in his too blue irises.

 

“Shut up Steve!” The engineer snapped, already drawn too tight, “Bruce,” he called imploringly, even as he would forever deny it. “you know this already. Come on, don't do this.” 

 

The Yellow one, shaked his head like in pain, trying and failing to remove something from inside. 

 

“Tony…” he grunted hunching, trembling like too fine ice. His voice conflicted…

 

Stark couldn't leave him to suffer alone. So he came to his side, taking his gauntlets out to finally touch the smooth scaly skin of a yellow arm; tiny calloused hands, against bulging muscle. 

 

“Tony..” Muttered Natasha in warning, until now silent and observing. 

 

That was the last Tony heard from his friends, since the next second he was being hauled in colossal arms, and taken away fast. He couldn't even react before they were leaving the base.

 

**oOo**

 

(Thor)

 

Before the place where the Bifrost is born, Thor was at Heimdall's side gazing at the magnificent splendour of the Yggdrasil, but not really finding what he sought. He had not Heimdall's gift, and the golden gate keeper would not help him this time, as he had not done for the last three weeks. 

 

“Heimdall, I dare ask again; Why won't you help us find our Midgardian green friend?” he tries anew, hoping against hope he would consent now. 

Heimdall does not look at his prince when he speaks.

 

“As I have told you before, my Prince, there are much older and powerful beings weaving the threads of your midgardians. And they would not see what has to be, changed by the will of an Aesir, even if such one is a Prince.” 

 

“Won't you even tell me the name of such being’s?”

 

Heimdall finally looked at him, all the universe reflected in his changeable golden eyes. 

 

“You call them the Norn's” 

 

**It will continue.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again after all this time. I had been wanting to write this chapter for a long while, but I was abandoned by my inspiration fae, and then my computer died with everything I had written inside impossible to retrieve. So I had to start a new. But here we are, hoping it will take less a wait for the next chapter. 
> 
> This is unbetaed because it took so long to finish I was ashamed to send it to my old beta, so please don't be too hard on me.  
> ^-^°  
> Consider this chapter like a reverse birthday present, since today is my birthday; Happy birthday to me. XD


	9. Possessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony couldn't stop shivering.

For a long, long, time, there's nothing to break the darkness that has fallen upon Bruce. Only the pain of his charred flesh (mind, imagined flesh?) and the desperate feeling of loss he can no longer fully understand.

 

He knows there's something precious lost to his memories, has only vague sensations of his (it was a he, wasn't it?) presence; Warm, calloused hands, black raven locks, and a name he so adored.

 

Can taste it's shape on his lips, still trapped between his teeth. But it's like a dream long gone, mist he cannot grasp.

 

In the terrible blank pain Bruce lives in, straining to recall that witch is lost, those little remainings are the only thing keeping him sane.

 

Then, one day, or week or year- impossible to tell in the darkness, like he couldn't tell many other things- came another's presence. One big, enormous and familiar body, that enveloped his frame into a protective hug, rumbling troubled all along.

 

In those arms he found relief.

 

His wounds mended slowly, his mind calmed down. Until the pain dimmed  to a dull ache. Yet, protected and comfortable as he was, the memories didn't return.

 

Bruce wallowed in shadows and ashes. Sometimes there were flashes like lightning, when he could almost see... before the darkness gulped him back, until the time true brightness broke through.

 

One moment there was nothing, save the snarling of his guardian getting more and more enraged by the second, next, he could see through the monster's eyes, listen through his ears;

A man was howling, lost somewhere among debris and  broken walls painted in iron red blood and grey ash. Water fell from broken pipes like a waterfall, shiny in the sun that came past the broken roof.

 

The building around them, had been broken like the shell of an egg to let the warm summer atmosphere filter inside.

 

It was oddly beautiful.

 

Then, he took in the only intact thing in the recess of the destroyed building; a tired and proud looking man, draped in gleaming red and golden metal.

 

HIM.

 

Bruce felt himself fall in place, get shaken to his very core.

 

Oh, how he had searched for this man in his damaged memories, how had he wanted, and needed, and hungered, without knowing. Now he's before him, he can't do nothing but watch, enslaved by the very shape of his.

 

He looks magnificent batted in sun, even when he's clearly unwell; deep shadows mar his eyes, reminiscent of long sleepless nights, his cheeks are gently sunken, reflect of recent weight loss, and his hair and goatee look unkeep.  Still, he admires the petroleum black of his hair, his honey sun kissed skin, the cocky smile on his lips… and the confusion, relief, worry… love, in his stare.

 

Bruce dips his gaze in the well of his eyes, and knows the warm brown of those irises. He's known it for a thousand days, a hundred nights, an impossible expanse of connecting dots of feverish skin, luscious limbs and sparkling words.

 

He knows: TONY.

 

A name that's more than a word, it's a mantra, a pray and a pond that contains years of memories.

 

All of those and so much more. His ALL. His WORLD.

 

Bruce remembers.

 

His life, the Avengers, the dragon, the voice, the fight, the fall, the monsters torture…

 

The yellow vile creature who broke Bruce and is keeping him prisoner inside himself.

 

He tries to take control, but he's too weak, and when the Yellow feels him, Bruce is cast back into the darkness and Hulk's arms. But now that the dark has been breached once, it's not as thick, and with new understanding he can spy from the cracks of the wall to the exterior, waiting to get free.

 

And when the evil Yellow thing hurt his friends later, Bruce was alert and waiting, prepared to wrestle the control back.

 

**oOo**

 

(Tony)

 

Tony rolled away from Yellow Hulk's arms, now that they were finally alone and still, so as not to vomit on him.

 

The journey here was made in a hurry of powerful leaps, stronger and wider than many rivers, that took a few hours to complete. Enough for night to fall, and darkness to envelop them in the vague cold light of the moon and the stars.

 

They were somewhere in a mountains thick forest, that much Tony knew, thanks to the tall old pine trees, the rocky terrain, and the sound of running water not far away.

 

But the knowledge was a vaguely acknowledged thing for the engineer, as dizzy as he felt after having been dragged there.

 

He couldn't control the trembling in his limbs as he fell to his knees, convulsed by dry heaving, even when he had nothing inside to give, save a few drops of bile that managed to stain his lips.

 

He gulped down much needed oxygen, little by little managing to settle his stomach and quite his trembling.

 

“That was fucking horrible. Let's not do it again.”, managed tiredly. His healing wound ached beneath the armour. Maybe some of his stitches had opened. “Bruce?” He got up on still weak legs, to finally turn around and see his lover.

 

Yellow Hulk was not far away, looking shaki himself. However, not from physical pain.

 

“Don't call me that.” He rumbled oddly mellow.

 

Tony just came nearer.

 

“I don't have another name to call you. Unless you want me to say Yellow Hulk every time I see you.” he tried being funny to light the mood, despite knowing there would be consequences for what had been done he hadn't permitted himself to think about, but...

 

Yellow snarled and unfolded from his hunched position, towering above Tony like a Titan. So enormous he could barely reach his scaly knees.

 

**oOo**

 

(Evil Hulk)

 

Banner, cursed damned name.

 

The weak human was awake, alert as a hawk. He could feel him. His damaged will endeavouring to take control back.

 

And when Stark had protected their friends the accursed one had taken  advantage of the display of love that weakened his hate.

 

The pull had been strong enough to shake, to weaken him. And if Banner  had succeeded, he would have been imprisoned as had been for years, abandoned in the recesses of their shared mind space, like vermin on a gloomy corner.

 

The near brush with captivity left his yellow flesh feeling thin, like little butter spread on too much toast…  

 

He needed hate, needed loathing. Pain and sorrow made his meals,  his strength. In Bruce's darkness he thrived.

 

Bruce Banner had hurt him, and he thirsted to wound him back.

 

Then, Stark spoke…  and he knew how to.

**oOo**

 

Suddenly, Tony found himself being thrown on the floor, sprawled under heavy claws, pressed firmly into damp soil.  Made prisoner by too warm scales.

 

“... what…?”  he uttered in confusion,  fingers grasping strong enormous digits and deadly claws.

 

He didn't fight to win freedom from his impromptu cage, instead, the genius though: about the reasons for this, about what little he knew of this Yellow side of his beloved.

 

Also,  about this strange feeling  of being utterly at his lover's hands. Not even Hulk had taken advantage of his strength to this extent, content to no more than lift Tony in his arms.

 

It was rare, somehow... endearing, yet, it left adrenaline coursing like a drug shot through his veins.  

 

-

As all that was dark and evil in Bruce, he watched Stark helpless beneath him, and felt satisfaction curle low in his belly.  That of knowing killing the engineer would deprive Bruce of his sharpest blade against him (love that was a weapon against hate, self-loathing and regret.), Of knowing how great a pain, terrible self-hate and sorrow, he would cause in his nemesis if the man of iron died at his hands, their hands. The red sharp pleasure of looking forward to the strength such feelings would feed him.

 

And another more subtle sensation, that added to his satisfaction without being easily understood.

 

A shimmery something he had not  familiarity with, and too little to give him pause.

 

The creature he was,  gave Anthony a curve of lips full of cruelty.

 

Stark was a fool that played with fires he couldn't quench, and it was time he got burned for it.

 

-

The pressure augmented, till his metal armour creaked much like too thin paper.

 

If he had still been wearing his helmet, Tony knew there would have been warnings flashing on his HUD. It was becoming suffocating.

 

And still he didn't know what had brought this on. He was uncertain, trying to understand.

 

But not afraid.

 

He couldn't fear his love. Wouldn't. Such distrust would destroy everything they had forged. The very foundation of Bruce's love for him was Tony's refusal to be cowed the Hulk.  How could he  let himself be less than strong, when he knew what he stood to lose?

 

He couldn't let it happen. He would not!

 

Had to believe Bruce didn't truly mean to  hurt him, not even this darkest side.

 

However, his belief wasn't' enough to stop his coughing when the chest piece began to give into the pressure. The arc reactor dug painfully into his muscles, taking more breath space than usual, and leaving him suffocating under the physical sensations, and the memories of  Afghanistan, that wanted to come to the surface under the oxygen deprivation.

 

Tony felt the first stages of a panic attack, curl hawthorn like around his heart.

 

“...B, Bruce…” he called in a gasp. Fingers now digging into scaly yellow skin. “...T...to...m,much.”

 

He couldn't breathe.

 

-

The yellow evil being, felt Bruce's rage against what he was doing. His fear, his helplessness. So great and delicious, much like an energetic beverage, reviving him.

 

But it was a delicate game of balance this he had on play. He could not get Bruce to enraged, less he gave too much strength to the green one.

 

As such, he needed to balance his actions to bring more hate and self-loathing than fury.

 

Yet, he got distracted by how beautiful looked Tony now.

 

His flushed skin and parted lips, the uneven exhales that raked his chest, his damp from sweat locks caressing sunbathed flesh… looking so... wanton… so sensual.

 

The yellow creature felt himself suddenly burning under a fire very different than that of bloodlust: pure red flames of desire taking possession of his innards and pushing him to claim, mark, posses, this one who must be his, and his alone.

 

A primal need like a tornado, the creature found himself not wanting to back from.

 

As he hardened, his internal genitals, much like a reptile's, left their hidden place to emerge from scaly skin: bringing out an enormous appendage of yellow nearly flushed orange from blood, column, of moist iron-hard flesh.

 

The exposure to the chilly nocturn air, made him groan.

 

Sometimes, he himself forgot that lust was a darkness too. And one that was part of himself as well.

 

Yet,  he had not felt the same when killing the men and women at the base. There hadn't been nothing but hate, vengeance, cruelty and bloodlust, then. Now, however...

 

He licked what passed for lips on his dragon face, and decided he could wait to kill the engineer, when the pleasure he would get, far surpassed any other hunger he could have to see blood spilled.

 

-

Tony saw dark spots begin to flourish on his vision, as air deprivation slowly drowned him… and his nails dug uselessly into too resistant scales...

When suddenly the weight lifted, letting his lungs take a much needed breath.

 

He coughed and gasped, feeling much like a wet and lifeless towel.

 

Then, as he struggled to speak, giant fingers curved claw like around what was left of his armour, and wicked nails broke the metal, tore it down, and peeled it back from his body, like an otter may peel an oyster from its sell.

 

Underneath Tony wore only the hospital pijama, and the few colorful curses that breathlessly managed to left his mouth in air deprived confused surprise.

 

“Fucking fuck! That took me a month of work. Dam! I could have taken it off..”

 

But all words died on his tongue, when he saw the _estate_ Yellow was in...  well, all but two.

 

“... That's huge.” He said without thinking.

 

The evil Hulk chuckled at his antics, as the same titanic hand that had nearly suffocated him before, curled around his body with much more pleasurable intent.

 

One calloused finger found his way between his legs, were he parted Tony's thighs, gently pressing between them, to rub his covered member.

 

Tony shuddered, and panted. Suddenly thrown into one of his most bizarre fantasies. He had many times wondered, how would feel Hulks terrible strength against him with more intent than a few sloppy kisses and sweet cuddles.

 

In that way, Hulk was much like a boy, and he didn't understand, not needed, the more exciting parts of a relationship. Happy with being able to smash things with his boyfriend, and kissing afterwards, but Tony had always wondered…

 

And now, to have such power focused on him, wanting him, taking from him without even asking… it was a heady experience. He went from exhausted, to rock-hard, in less than a minute. Moaning in pleasure, as the finger descended to press against his buttocks. He clenched his thighs around the digit, his back had fallen to rest on the ground, utterly boneless, as his hands caressed whichever warm yellow scales he could reach.

 

Tony couldn't stop shivering.

 

“You look so good, so wanton, Tony.” Yellow breathed into a gasp.

He had never been able to truly touch, really feel. In his many years of imprisonment all he had where snatched images, little less than dream impressions. Now that he was finally able to experience first hand, he found himself addicted to the sensation of Tony's warm skin, shuddering in pleasure against his own. It was delicious, this feeling of being wanted, desired… he needed more, Wanted more!

 

He tore the hospital gown from Tony's body, leaving him naked, precious and flushed… then he saw the barely closed wound at his side; an irregular pinkish and purple expanse of flesh, barely knighted together with medical thread.

 

So damaged it had still the purplish colour of the impact nearly three weeks later.

 

The evil Hulk felt himself suddenly flourish from an horrible sulphurous hate, directed to the one not him, that had marked the engineer so…

 

A wave of possessiveness crashed against the flames of hate, just as Tony moaned and twisted against his hand, searching for more skin to skin contact.

 

Needing like he needed.

 

“Please, oh please.” Tony groaned, wanted, needed..”More!”

  
**It will continue.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again, and happy this chapter didn't take so long to write, even when It was a difficult one to do. So many feelings that needed to be taken into consideration, pulling to be listened to. Still, I feel the resulting piece was worth it. Hope you do too. ;)


	10. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want it all. All of you. Your worst as much as your best!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading the fic again, I kinda understood why some of the scenes could be seen as hilarious. I'm getting way melodramatic in here , not to mention how difficult is too make a finger look sexy XD It came out rather ridiculous. But since I love this little work none the less it would remain as it is. However I will keep the fault in mind for future reference.  
> The end is getting near, a sad one? A happy one? What do you think?

(Thor)

 

It dies another day in Asgard, where Thor remains as his mother asked of him. 

To make a little time with her, and offer company she rarely has of him, now he's occupied with protecting Asgard and Midgard, both. 

 

Yet, there's another darker reason for remaining in the Golden Realm. The words of Heimdall eat at his insides. What are the Norns weaving, that they would ask of the Gate Keepers silence? The prince feels he can gleam better understanding if he stays and waits a little longer. As has happened in the past, maybe now too, Heimdall would speak when he feels the time is right. 

 

Then, in the morning of the second day, when knowing he cannot abandon his Midgardian friends for much longer,  he's preparing to part in return to Earth, one einherjar comes fast in his search.

 

“Prince Thor,” he calls “Heimdall wishes to have words. It's a matter of great importance.”

 

At this, Thor knows the time for waiting is ended.

 

“You have done good, einherjar. I will depart now. Return to your post.” 

 

The warrior salutes and leaves as he is told. 

 

The prince hurriedly goes to the place the Bifrost is born, where Heimdall's always watching. 

 

Today, the golden eyed one gripes his spear harder than usual, and when Thor approaches, his gaze is grim, lost into distant worlds he can only guess. 

 

“Heimdall, you wished to see me?” He asks, aware of a stab of dread in his very guts. 

 

“The Norn's have gifted permission for we to have words.” Heimdall's gaze leaves the void, and presses into Thor's own.  Eternity and horrid wisdom breathe in those deeps. A heavy burden to bear, but The prince of Asgard doesn't falter.

 

“What are those words you wouldn't speak before?” he asks with appropriate respect.

 

The gatekeeper points his spear's long blade, to the distant branches of the Yggdrasil. There's a reddish spark, barely distinguishable into the farthest corner of those branches. An oddity that shouldn't be.

 

“That you see, it's a breach in the fabric of the void; a gate forcibly opened. Long ago, your grandfather guarded a key in Midgard, that should be forever unused. A gate to the eternal prison of a Titan older than many God's. A poisonous entity of darkness, that thrives in fear and horror.”

 

Thor looks at the spark and his eyes harden.

“Why  leave such a dangerous keepsake in Midgard? Why not keep it safe in Asgard?” 

 

“Because it was peaceful.” Heimdall intones. “This one doesn't feed of fear like many demons might. He IS fear, and as such, can't be killed, only imprisoned where his power source is weakest. None other realm has been as fortunate, as to avoid a true terrible world-wide war. Yet in the long ages he's  remained imprisoned, longer than you can remember, he's harvested enough.  And the wave of fear brought by the Chitauri invasion, has strengthened him much.”

 

Thor's hand closes reflexively around Mjolnir, strapped at his waist.

Still, this doesn't explain the Gatekeepers reluctance to aid in search of a friend.

 

“What has this creature to do with Bruce Banner?” he asks, the gnawing feeling of dread eating at his insides now. 

 

Heimdall chooses not to answer his question, instead says this:

 

“The Titan has broken free. And if not stopped, he will destroy Midgard.”

 

“Then you should have spoken to me when I asked.” Thor bites his rage between his teeth, it wouldn't do good to speak ill words about the Norn's, let's they decide to tangle his thread. 

 

“I could not. You would have stubbornly searched for a better, nonexistent, way. And in this, condemned Midgard.” 

 

“What do you speak now, Heimdall?” Sometimes the Guardian speaks in riddles he can't untangle. Dread, sneaky dread, makes itself feel.

 

“Your friend, Bruce Banner, hided inside the only one that can best this Titan. But for him to let the other out, some great pain needed to be taken.” He speaks sure words, but Thor sees sorrow hidden in then. Yet, no regret. 

 

“Hulk? Our green friend would have come to aid without such pain as Bruce must have suffered at Ross hands.”  He cannot understand. 

 

“No, not the green one. The  **Yellow** one”

 

Thor frowns. 

 

“There's a dark side to your Midgardian friend, no one had been privy to. This one is much stronger than the one you call Hulk, much more resilient, and most important than all else, he cannot fear.”

 

Thor wishes to ask, however Heimdall silences him with a gesture.

 

“Do not presume to know more than the Norn's. I called you, for there's something of great importance you still must do, to save the realm you promised to protect” Now Thor can see sadness as well as sorrow into those, otherwise, unfathomable irises.

“The all father won't depart from valuable warriors to aid you in this. Not now we are so weakened by restoring peace in the nine realms. So it must be the Yellow one. Listen carefully young Prince…”

 

And the dread inside of Thor, finally flourished into aching pain.

 

**oOo**

 

(Devil Hulk/Tony)

 

“Please, oh please.” Tony moaned, wanted, needed. “More!”

 

Yellow groaned, falling into hand and knees. Keeping the engineer tucked below him, into his enormous shadow, like a dragon a hoard of gold. 

 

Possessiveness twisted his insides with  greedy red hands. 

 

It demanded  more; more of that quivering flesh, of those deep sounds of savage pleasure, more than one little finger could give. 

 

He freed his digit from strong thighs, and took pleasure in the rasp of blunt nails  against his scales, as desperate need and poor acceptance of the loss, tore a choked plea-curse of want from Tony. 

 

The engineer arched in a display of gleaming flesh, that enchanted  slit evil pupils with the slide of sweat down tanned planes of shivering skin. 

 

The fire of lust and desire already burning the creature, flared higher and hotter, becoming a conflagration; a starving need he couldn't, not didn't want, to control. 

 

Suddenly, Tony cried out in pleasure;

 

“OH FUCK!” when sharp, terrible hook-like teeth rasped his thighs playfully. 

 

“Needy, aren't we?” Yellow smiled a wolfish, somehow crooked grin. And it was so much like Bruce's smiles in the dark of night and the warm of their bed…  

 

The memories, suddenly awakened, ignited a different kind of desire in Tony. One that tamed the flames of his lust, but no less greedy for it.

 

And when he lifted his gaze to look at the behemoth with too warm brown eyes, Yellow found his gaze was not as cloudy as he had thought it to be, yet, the fire inside burned much hotter. 

 

Trapped for but a second in it's deep auburn recesses, Yellow stood motionless, as Tony offered his own smile back; a curious thing, sweet and sharp. A hundred silent words keep between white teeth. 

 

Then, Tony got up, seating when he had been laying on his back, and extended his hands to touch his face, now so near him. The feeling of little palms and smaller digits carding through his scales and the bone ridges around his eyes, made him shudder in pleasure and confusion. 

 

The little respire gained Tony some breath to speak words he had felt shearing inside for a little time now. 

 

“I'm needy, yea.” He said, softly pressing the side of his face into warm golden armour. Cheek against cheek. “I missed you.” 

 

Oh, that hurt. Those words like bitter needles, tearing at something soft inside himself. Yellow hissed at the reminder this precious tanned flesh wasn't his, not the warm gaze of those auburn irises.  

 

His fingers dug into dark soil, so his claws couldn't draw blood...

 

“You didn't miss  _ me,  _ Stark.” He threw back with poisonous mirthless tone.  Wished to hurt as he has been, wished that gleaming creature torn. Yet, he couldn't make himself  hurt him with nothing worse than words. “The one you miss is gone. I have buried him so far below the surface, he won't come back,  **ever.** ”

 

He felt Tony's warm breath leave the patch of  flesh it had been caressing. The loss another meagre wound to add to the one already taken. 

 

However it was to look into his eyes, that Tony moved away, and even so, his hands remain on his face, callous, yet, so caring. 

 

A frown took the genius face; a hurt thing, a worried thing. 

 

“You aren't very bright? Are you?” he said. The behemoth would have been offended but for the sadness hidden into the words. As it was, they pushed a rare, unnatural blade, between his ribs. “You think I would love Bruce, and somehow hate you? That would be very hypocritical of me.” Matter of factly, apparently serious, he spoke into his face. “What if you are the worst of him?” Yet, his caressing hands became rigid and forceful. If Yellow had been human such treatment would have put deep purplish marks on his skin, but since he was not, they became a headier place of contact. 

 

“You are the stupid one Stark.”-he hissed without strength left. “You lie to yourself. No one want's a monster. Not even you.”

 

Suddenly, Iron man bared his teeth into a snarl. “You know nothing **idiot!** Get it into that damn thick skull; I want **YOU** , all of you. Your worst as much as your best. Got it?!” As fast as he had become violent, his mood twisted yet again, and latched his mouth into the warm scales around the draconic mouth in a savage kiss of tongue and teeth. Muttering hotly into yellow flesh; “I'm a greedy man, I don't want what little scraps you decide to give. I want it all. All of you.” He  growled.

 

O…

 

Yellow felt himself shatter beneath a storm of feelings. Sun bright wonder, and terrible devouring possessiveness, crashing like tectonic plates against a terrifying warm feeling he couldn't name. The shock rocked his bones with  titanic arms, before letting him fall into impossible heartwarming orgarm. 

 

Those words, he had never even let himself hope to hear, reshaped his world in a second.

 

_ I want it all. All of you. Your worst as much as your best! _

 

A roar tore from the very core of his being, a tortured triumphant sound that resonates on the forest, and made birds flee in fright.

 

Tony fell to the floor with the force of the sound, ears ringing and heart thundering. 

 

But when it ended and before he opened his eyes, in the silence that fell, he heard warm, bit by bit, calming breath, near him. 

 

“...Tony…” A weary voice muttered in a pant.

 

Could it…?

 

“...Bruce?” He blinked at the bright sun and swaying pine trees.

 

Suddenly, warm big (good big, no enormous big), hands, framed his face.  And Bruce's tired kind eyes, came into view. 

 

“You are crazy.” He said, and before Tony could find a proper response, he was being kissed. 

 

**Continue**

  
  
  



	11. Prelude

Lips and tongue, and warm skin.

 

Couldn't feel anything else; not the damp soil beneath his body, not the sound of the wind between pine leaves, not the cold of the night edging on day, as the black sky turned smoky grey. 

His senses were trapped by his desperation to experience everything that made Bruce what he was.

 

Kind, strong, shy, dorky… Homely.

 

“Tony, listen…” Bruce managed between heady kisses and roaming hands. Even when he had been the one to start this with his kiss, it was Tony the one who had pulled Bruce on top of him, with strength he had not thought to have left. 

 

It was overwhelming in the wake of understanding the true deep of Tony's feelings, however,much as he wanted to let himself go, and just feel for a short while, reason, guilt and cold logic pulled at Bruce insistently. 

The things his evil side had done; destroying a military base, killing a few dozen scientists and soldiers, torturing Ross, nearly tearing Steve's leg out… They needed to be addressed, to be accounted for. His conscience demanded it, as much as his good heart, and logical mind. 

 

Not only because it was the right thing to do, but because it was the only one.

He couldn't stay hidden forever, not escape what happened.

 

Maybe destroying the base and torturing Ross had some kind of twisted justification. But not so killing the workers of the place, not hurting Steve so.

 

He would have to turn himself to SHIELD. Take whatever punishment was deemed necessary.

 

The best he could hope for was imprisonment, the worst… 

 

Tony twisted beneath him, seeking to erase thought with the friction of their naked bodies. Sneaked his arms around Bruce's neck and nipped at his ear with passion born of desperation. 

“You should have told me.” he rasped with something akin to anger, but with a shallow undertone that could have been fear. 

 

“I didn't want to endanger you…” Bruce offered breathlessly, in place of other more selfish reasons, (“ _ I couldn't look in your eyes and see fear. I couldn't lose your love, even if I had to let you go.”).  _

 

It didn't seem to matter that the actual words never left his lips, as Tony seemed to understand without them. 

 

“You are such a dumb man.”, He said teasing his lips with teeth and tongue, but beneath the seemingly joking words, there was true pain. Something Bruce couldn't ignore. 

 

Something he needed to pay for, too. 

 

He had hurt the one he treasured above all else, and however he would do it again, (as he knew giving himself over to SHIELD, would hurt Tony deep), he still wanted to make it a little less painful. Give something, even if meagre, in exchange for that volcanic love, he knew he couldn't deserve. 

 

So he shut up, and decided to gift Tony  an hour of a blessed unreal moment, just for them.

However, both knew the truth.

 

Bruce let himself be pulled into a heated kiss, cardin his fingers through petroleum-black locks. Treasuring the low hum of appreciation of his crazy man, as he finally stopped resisting. 

 

Their clashing tongues calmed down to a caring encounter of slick flesh. The engineers nearly rabid movements, became slow caresses, as his body relaxed. Their kiss broke slowly, leaving their lips moist with one another's taste. 

 

Their breaths mingling.

 

“Don't go.” Tony asked, calm, serious. It could have fooled nearly anyone, but not Bruce. The subtle way his fingers sifted on his skin, forcibly keep quiet, betrayed his inner turmoil. 

 

Maybe, as consequence of him being a engineer, Tony always searched for something to do with his hands when troubled. And the reflex didn't disappear, even when he tried to keep it in check.

 

The knowledge’s thin blade, pierced Bruce with exquisite pain. 

 

But in spite of it, of Tony's warm body, and even when his own selfish side wanted to say yes, Bruce could not.

 

“I have to take responsibility,” 

 

“No, you don't. Why can't we just disappear?” Tony's  hands dug into his flesh, nearly painful, and his gaze averted a second, only one moment, a reflex to veil the pain lurking in his eyes. But enough for Bruce to notice.

 

It wasn't even a real attempt at changing his mind. Stark knew it wasn't possible. But he wished it was… he wished it so hard…

 

“I'm sorry.” Bruce breathed against his mouth, and kissed him again, taking all other words with kind lips, and kinder hands. 

 

He gave himself into that sunbathed flesh. Took all the little things he had learned through long nights, and sweet days, that made Tony squirm, made him moan, made him sigh. All his love, his regret, his desire and the desperate uncertainty of their future. And made them into an offer of pleasure, so intense as to skim pain, with witch to worship the only one who made him whole.

 

Tony.

 

**oOo**

  
  


When Tony came, it was howling with Bruce buried in him to the hilt. Shuddering with trembling overstimulated limbs, climbing to him like a dying man, and with the glorious first sunbeams of the day touching them like a halo.

 

**oOo**

 

(Thor)

 

Heimdall's last words sat heavy in his chest, when he let himself be swept away by the Bifrost. 

 

Dark wisdom he wished not to have, and witch Thor wouldn't listen to, unless there was no other way. 

 

But he didn't have much time left. None of them had.

 

**oOo**

 

He stood curled against Bruce, their breaths calming down, sweat drying on their skin, mind turning on. 

It was peaceful, with the gentle sound of the wind on the pine trees as their very own music. However the respire was bound to end… still, Tony didn't expect it to end in such a way, when the soil beneath them began to tremble in the beginnings of an earthquake. 

 

“What the..?!” 

 

**It will continue**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, but I have been very busy lately and didn't want to have you waiting for longer. So... here we have.   
> I'm the only one who thinks Tony is getting out of character? As I said before, he doesn't come very naturally to me, so I'm struggling with him quite a bit. Hope he's not looking too artificial.
> 
> So, I will appreciate your input on the matter.


	12. Forever

**Forever**

 

The ground trembled, pine leaves fell from their perches, far away birds took of…  Tony  would have wanted to feel annoyed, but it was sadness that gripped his heart.

 

The earthquake had broken, the short, precious, time, he had left to be as they were;  _ wrapped into each other. Limbs, slick with sweat, and warm from sex, tangled and comfortable.  Listening to their heartbeat and gentle breaths _ .  _ Taking each other in, with care reserved for pray. _

 

So it was with a heavy heart that he raised his gaze….  

 

He woke to full alertness, at seeing  the sky turn a sickening reddish colour, and dark clouds begin to gather faster than he had thought possible. 

 

“What the…?” 

 

Bruce, who had been already fully awake before the earthquake, (Too wound up by everything that had taken place), was already getting up before Tony could process their disentangling limbs, (something like regret set in the final, butterfly-light sweep, of the bio-ingenierists fingertips against his flesh.)

 

But before they were even standing, as suddenly as it started, the small earthquake stopped. 

 

A frown made his way into Doctor Banners  features, with Stark’s not far behind.  

 

“That's not a natural phenomenon.”  Banner knew everything that was to know about meteorology, and this was not.

 

Scientific curiosity, and barely nascent apprehension, grabbed at their guts.

 

Then, as unexpected as the redding sky, thunder cracked, the clouds swirled thicker and thicker by the second. Wind sweep the forest, moaning on the swinging branches, messing their hair…

 

“Rain?” Tony touched his own cheek, where something warm had splashed him. But as he looked at his fingertips, the liquid wasn't the expected clear one, but a bright red and sticky substance. 

 

He looked up to see Bruce getting wet too, red spattering his hair and skin with crimson. The iron smell of it reached his nostrils, making him sick.

 

The biologist took a swipe of it from his hand with his tongue. It tasted metallic. 

“Its blood.” 

 

“Blood?! Don't tell me, somehow, we managed to start the dam plagues.” Snark taking his tongue, and masking the foreboding feelings Tony was determined to ignore.

 

Thunder cracked again, this time painfully louder, gaining their attention. The sky had become nothing but a thick mass of clouds …  then, something seemed to illuminate them  from the inside.

 

For a second they thought it must be lighting, until whatever was beyond breached the storm.

 

They fell like comets; fiery rocks coming by dozens. 

 

Bruce tensed, suddenly painfully aware of Tony's presence, vulnerable, so terribly vulnerable without armour, at his side. And had a second to regret the state of the mark 6.

 

But before Bruce called for Hulk, the sky above them opened into a familiar multi coloured tunnel, bringing a flash of light and wind, that disappeared a second later,  leaving Thor in its wake, but no reddish sky, not blood on their skin, or comets falling.

 

Around them the forest flourished under the early morning sun, calm and bright. The things they had seen, gone like mist. 

 

“What the fuck?!” Tony exhaled, his heart slowing into relief he would never admit too. 

 

At his side, Bruce began unwinding too. His eyes a warm brown Tony had seen shine green for a second, not a moment ago.

 

However, as he relaxed, Stark took in his asgardians friend state; Thor looked troubled, grim. It was easy to see the shadows gathering in his too truthful eyes. The Thunderer never had the talent his  _ brother _ did, to lie. His feelings as easy to see as the sun in the sky. Yet, like the sun, they could be burning too, if you remained in their wake long enough. 

And the ones he displayed now were burning indeed.

Regret, determination, pain… Tony saw them clear as day.

 

Mjolnir rested heavily on Thor's hand. His words came heavier still.

 

“Shield brothers, we must prepare for battle.”

 

“What's happening?” Anthony asked, didn't care he was still naked, sweat drying on his skin, seed still warm inside. 

Bruce didn’t care either, accustomed to waking up naked after Hulk's outbursts. Both shyless men as far as body went. 

 

Thor was not much different. As long as his life had been, nakedness and all its mysteries were well known.

 

His eyes lingered only on Anthony's side, where the wounds were still tender. Midgardians were very fragile, their lives so short...  His heart hurt with the notion his friend's may end even sooner. However, he willed the thought away, as more pressing matters asked for words.

 

“The one responsible for this phenomenons, is the dragon creature we had been fighting.”

 

His midgardian friends looked at their surroundings, expecting to see the monster near, as they had been affected by his powers. Yet, he was not.

 

“Where is him?” Tony asked.

 

Thor shakes his head once.

 

“No near my friend. That's what I must tell you. He is not dragon at all. Not even a creature on it's own, but a shadow. A manifestation of a very old, very powerful, being. One of the oldest  inhabitants of the Yggdrasil.”

 

“That's why you have been absent, isn't it? You have been learning about him.” Tony inquired, and Thor nodded. “So what can you tell us? How we fight him? Both times we have, he just flicked off.” 

 

“I can promise that will not happen again. Before, he was no  mortal being, but an avatar, a manifestation,  of an intangible force. Now he is free, and embodied.”

 

Bruce frowned.

What kind of force? What does he embodi?”

 

The asgardians answer was curt. 

“He is fear.”

 

“Fear as in the feeling?” Tony said.

 

“Yes my friends. Every strong power has the potential to gain life of his own.They are uncomparable beings we call Titans. They usually seek solitude, yet this one…”

 

“So what's doing something like him,in Earth?” Bruce inquired. A very ugly suspicion taking root on his brain.

 

Thor's eyes darkened further at the question, filled with regret that wasn't his.

 

“It was imprisoned here, as this was the most peaceful realm of the Yggdrasil. Where he couldn't feed as easily of the feelings he seeks: Fear, terror and misery, are his most beloved feasts. And it was right for centuries. However, the Chitauri invasion has weakened the walls keeping him. The fear that has gripped humankind, at knowing themselves vulnerable to other races in the universe, reached beyond the seal and feed the creature. Ever since, he has been seeking to gather power through the cracks… until the seal has finally broken.”

 

Thor's fingers flexed around the handle of Mjolnir.

 

“And as fear is what he harvests. He calls into the deepest and most painful memories of his preys. Weaves illusions like the one you were being enchanted by.” his hand reaches for the amulet tied around his throat. The one his mother crafted for him, much like she had crafted  his friend's, not a few weeks ago. What an unfortunate thing that they had left theirs at the Avengers tower.

And what a painful thing, he had to do this. However, he had hope it wouldn't come to the worst.

 

“I'm truly sorry this came to pass, but we don't have much time. He may be weak now, after so long imprisoned, but won't be for long. The illusion you saw, was not merely destined for you. It's enveloping all of Midgard, and if we do not stop him now, in just a few hours, he may have harvested fear enough to be impossible to restrain. ” 

 

“How do we stop him?- Asked Bruce. -It doesn't seem like mere physical strength would suffice. Asgard would have killed him already if that was so. Is it not?” 

 

Thor nodded grimly.

“Yes. It is true. As a creature made of feeling, he cannot be killed, only imprisoned. That's why he must be sealed anew. My mother has weaved for us a spell strong enough for it, now that he is not in full strength yet. But we will need to trap him time enough for it to take effect. For that, I will ask for our green friends help. As I will ask too for your help too, Anthony. And that of out shield brothers.”

 

They both nodded at the request, as the ground gave a new short tremor. Tony cursed under his breath, knowing they had not time.

 

“Now, my friends, we must take this plight.”

 

**oOo**

  
  


In the end, all his faint was for naught.

 

New York was going mad around them. People trapped inside their own horrors, and attacking one another in panic and desperation. The streets littered by corpses, broken store windows and cars that had crashed against other vehicles, walls, storefronts… everything. 

 

Screams and the smell of fire impregnated the atmosphere. And in the middle of all that horror, stood the Titan. A dragon like monster, three times bigger than the one they had fought before. 

 

Yet, height was not the only difference. Were the first had been red, this was dark. His scales and claws as black and hot, as coal. His eyes, fiery petroleum pools of evil glint. 

He was not mindless monster, for he acted with too much intelligence and assurance, for it to be true. 

 

Their one advantage were the amulets that rendered his powers ineffective against them. But only them. This near the creature the talisman's range shrunk to the wearer.  

 

The Avengers hadn't called for help. None could have helped. Everyone else had already been too far gone, when Thor had managed to find the rest of their friends, and take them out the nightmares they had been trapped inside, where they had been resilient, as they already knew what they were facing. 

 

At the start of the combat the Avengers could match the entity well enough, nearly had it trapped, but… it became stronger the longer they fought, and they became more tired as time went on. 

 

Hawkeye was the first to fall. His arm had been wounded by the fight against the Yellow Hulk not a day before, and even with the shoulder tightly wrapped and secured, he was not in peak condition.

It had been only a matter of time, before he was too slow to do much, when the Titans long spiked tail leveled the building in which roof the had been. 

Only luck and quick reflexes saving him from death, as he managed to jump to a near roof. But the impact and the flying debris that hit him, left Clint lying flat, cracked by pain and unable to get up.

 

Not long after, Captain America, who was still wounded by his encounter with the Yellow one, but that refused to be left behind, and Black widow, got taken down. Both throw against a brick wall strong enough to break through it,  by the explosion of fire breathed by the thing. An impromptu inferno that made a dozen nearby cars go up in flames, and left them third-degree burns, broken bones, and barely alive.  

 

In the end, only Thor, Hulk and Tony remained. Tony, because he was too fast in his armour for the Titan to take proper aim… at least for now. And Hulk and Thor, because they were the strongest and most durable. Yet, Thor was rapidly gaining in wounds, and in hopelessness. 

 

They weren't strong enough to take the Titan. Not as they were. Fear making himself known in his heart. And thus, feeding the creature further. 

 

Heimdall's __ words echoing in his skull and gaining strength. Words he hadn't let himself think about...

 

However as their spirit wavered, he couldn't tune them out. 

Was it truly the only exit left for them? Was the life of one man, so high a price to pay in exchange for a whole branch of the Yggdrasil? 

 

His heart hurt.

 

Finally, as him and Tony descended to the street in need of a moment respire, Thor asked for words with his friend.

 

Protected enough by distance and the cars abandoned in the street, the asgardian and the terran had a second to take into each other.

 

Thor was sweat drenched, dirty from soot and blood. His crimson cape torn, the leather armour sighed, mane as dirty as the rest of him and dishevelled. There were deep gashes on his side bleeding sluggishly, were the Titan had managed to land his claws, breaking the protection to reach flesh. 

 

Overall, the asgardian looked tired, body and soul. His eyes full of shadows his friend couldn't decipher.

 

Tony was not better off. 

His armour spotty, black in places for the fire and intense heat. Scraps littered the titanium alloy, and its right arm was barely functional. As it was, he was lucky his fleshy arm underneath had not sustained something worse than bruises. 

The armour was fast, and he managed to avoid a direct hit until now, but the longer they fought the faster the creature became. As of now it was plain for all to see that the Dragon was playing with them. Taking pleasure on the fight and their increasing desperation. Not even the Hulk was making much progress. As he too, sported gashes and shoot marks. Something that very rarely had happened before. And never that Hulk took on an opponent he couldn't defeat.

 

It was unnerving how things spoke so ill of the outcome.

 

Tony felt a pressure on his breast that had little to do with the Ark lodged there, and too much with everything else. So he ignored it.

 

“What did you want to speak about?” he drawled out.

 

“Please, take your helmet off my friend.” 

 

“Thor…”   

 

“What words I will give you, must be spoken face to face.” 

 

Never had Tony hear the asgardian prince speak with such finality before.

 

“Okey…” very slowly he released the mechanism of the helmet. 

And with it in hand looked into Thor's too blue eyes. 

 

For the first time since they meet, the engineer could believe his friend was thousands of years old. As that warm, sky blue, gazing at him, was no longer the carefree shade he knew, but a heavier, colder one. Marred from countless losses, the certainty of an old soul who knows to accept them, returned his look. 

 

“Anthony.” 

 

When Thor's heavy hand rested on his shoulder, it took him by surprise, and made Tony want to snap, but uncharacteristically, he reigned the impulse back. The gesture too caring, too strange, to hurl it back. 

 

“So… ?” He drawled, unsure how to react.

 

“Before I came, Heimdall spoke to me the way to overpower the Titan.” the words tore from Thor's throat feeling red with his friends blood.

 

“But you didn't speak of this before… because something about it is bad, pretty fucking bad, isn't it?” 

Tony knew without words, felt Thor's pain radiate outward like ozone from the charged atmosphere of a storm. “How bad are we facing Thor?  _ Ritual sacrifice _ bad?”

 

The gods mouth tightened, and the pressure on his shoulder augmented, till he could feel it through the titanium. His too blue eyes averted in pain. 

 

“That bad, then?” Tony tried the funny diverting way, just wanting to erase the suffering on that gaze. 

 

“Anthony, friend of mine.” Thor lifted his gaze, locking their eyes. Tony though those were the irises of a God under torture. Too many wounds and pain, to come from the span of one  mortal life. “What I learned from Heimdall was this; that The Yellow one is the only one who can overpower the Titan. As he is hate, an emotion who only grows with fear, unlikely the rage of the Hulk.”

 

Tony frowned.

“You are worried about Yellow taking control? Don't be, he…”

 

“No, I do not fear for Bruce, Anthony. I fear for you.” Thor's hand left his shoulder, to cup his nape in utter  kindness.  “For Yellows power to  flourish in full, and be enough to take on the Titan, he must lose that who he cares for more than anything.” Snow could have melted on his tongue as softly as he spoke his next words. “You must die.” 

 

Fear. 

 

It wasn't the first time Tony had felt this kind of soul freezing feeling. In Afghanistan when he had been captured, when the chitauri invasion and the nuke had happened… it shouldn't feel so sharp now, after the familiarity he had gained with it. But…

 

“Die…” he muttered because he didn't think he could speak louder.

 

“I'm sorry my friend, there is no other way.” Thor felt sick.

 

Tony's mind became razor sharp, taking on the calm before the tornado. He didn't ask if there was another way, if it had been, Thor would have spoken about it. Instead he forced a self-assured smile. Hadn't he been living in borrowed time already? 

 

“Yea? So I die and the dragon-fear-thing gets handed his ass by Bruce?”  Bruce… 

 

His smile faltered. After the monster was out, and him dead, what would Bruce fee… Tony shut the thought down. He couldn't, wouldn't think about it. What would be the purpose? He won't be there to ease Bruce's pain, to comfort him with bad jokes and food. To warm him with warm tea, and warmer flesh. 

 

He swallowed convulsively.

 

“Thor, can I ask you a favor?” 

 

“I will endeavour to make it happen.” Thor vowed. The certainty in his words so unbreakable as to feel like steel. 

 

“Take care of Bruce. I modificated my will some time ago, so he won't need for anything material but… He will need you to tell him not to blame himself. He will try. Trust me, he will.-Just the notion made him nauseous.-  And that I…” Tony faltered. What could he say?  _ I love him,  _ was such a lame phrase to convey the fiercely burning inside that scorched him...

 

Thor's had left his nape to grip his shoulder in firm promise. “I will tell him my friend.” An understanding in his gaze, that told Tony he had understood without words. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

**oOo**

 

What the Norn's had weaved came to pass.  

 

Anthony soared across the sky; a brilliant flash of red and gold, against the dying sun. 

A magnificent bright flame, all the brighter for its brevity. 

 

**oOo**

 

Tony rose taking to the sky, let himself get engulfed by the golden and bright orange hues of the dusk. He  breathed in them, filled himself with the intense feeling that flying with utter freedom gave him. Drank it all down, just to drown his racing mind one last time.

 

He didn't want to think about the ones he would leave behind, about his own fear, about Bruce… he looked down, instinctively in search of the intense green of Hulk. 

 

However, as he looked at the combat still raging on the street. the very thin calm he had managed to craft for himself, fractured and broke into razor sharp shards. 

 

Down on his knees, Hulk struggled to get up, slipping on a puddle of his own blood, as it spilled to the asphalt from his stomach, where the monsters spiked tail was embedded.

 

Never, never had Tony seen so much of his beloved's blood. 

 

That puddle of bright life, froze him in its deeps. For a second he could do nothing but watch the man he loved grunt, as the appendage trashes in his guts, making a new wave of crimson fall to the puddle already gathered, with a sickening wet sound.

 

As Hulk struggled with the pain, the Titan twisted like a serpent, and closed its long blade-sharp teeth, on green flesh. Thor's blow to his neck didn't even pause it. 

 

Hulk roared in howling agony.

 

The freezing feeling trapping Tony, broke like frail China against the ground.

Rage and pain crashed into him with the strength of a train wreck,  and launched Iron man into a mindset, he only ever experienced in battle.

 

“Jarvis, turn off the Ark's safekeepers.” 

 

“...Yes Sir.” Jarvis took a second to acquiescence. British accent, a touch too concerned, that Tony knew for so long, it became a comforting cadence.

 

That his old friend didn't comment on the integrity failure it would cause on the Ark, and the danger to his life, meant he had eavesdropped through the helmet his conversation with Thor, and respected Tony enough to let him do this, no matter his own feelings.

 

Of course he did, he was Jarvis. Tony's first true accomplishment, his paranoid protector, and his best friend.

 

The hud displayed the necessary diagrams in rapid succession, as one by one, all security protocols were overrun and discarded, with the deadly grace and economy of motion, only Jarvis code could implement.

 

The safekeepers went down without sound, just when the Titan took out his tail with a vicious twist, delighting in Hulks pain laced roar of rage. 

 

With a buzz of fierce electricity, the energy reserves of the suit went up to supercharged.

 

“Thank you, J” 

  
  


**oOo**

 

He fell like an eagle from the sky. 

His repulsors and the Ark bright as stars. 

His armours red and gold, like that of a phoenix, aflame in blue. 

The Titan saw him coming, but didn't try to evade the impact. Too strong, too empowered, to care.  

 

Tony crashed against him in a explosion of blue. 

 

**oOo**

 

At the start of the battle, when he had had to relinquish his body to the Hulk, Bruce had been drawn taut. Not knowing what to expect of the Yellow monster waiting him inside. If he would need to fight his way free, like last time they converged, or if he would be attacked with deadly intent this time. 

 

However, when he fell to the dark recesses of his mind, the creature didn't come at him, didn't even deem to speak to him. In the absence of any light source, Bruce couldn't see his bulking shape, but he could still feel the thing near, still listen to his rustling scales on the stone floor, and the deep sibilant hisses of his breathing.

 

For whatever reason, Yellow seemed content in studying him.

 

And Bruce let him, after a few minutes of no threatening movement happening. Instead he occupied himself with trying to spy through Hulk's eyes, snatching images like broken films.

 

In the darkness of their mind, they saw the battle take place in fits and spurts.

 

Clint's fall, Steve and Natasha's burning… The Titan's terrible strength and speed, and how he became stronger and faster, the longer it got to subdue him. Until pain broke through to them, stabbing into their collective minds agony that gripped their stomach, and made them howl.

 

Bruce fell to his knees, vaguely registering the vibration in the ground, and the screech of scales forcible drawn against the floor. 

 

Hulk was badly wounded. They were falling… a new wave of pain broke, as blade-sharp fangs pierced their leg. 

 

They howled in tandem. 

 

And suddenly, blue exploded blinding everything with magnificent light, taking away the teeth and the tail, and most of the piercing pain.

 

When the brightness diminished and they could see again, their surroundings were but a crater, at the bottom of which stood the Dragon. Half his scales looked charred to the flesh underneath, his tail was twisted and broken, bone poking out of crispy skin, and his face was but chunks of meat melting from the skull, as his eyes, white and sightless, rolled in their sockets. 

 

Yet, the Titan was alive, twisting and hissing, as his wounds mended themselves with inhuman speed. 

 

Hulk got up, his own wounds healing already too. When he saw what had caused the explosion.

 

There, near the monster, at the bottom of the crater, stood a blackened and wrenched thing of metal. 

 

Dull red, and tarnished gold… 

 

Bruce felt himself tremble, as Hulk advanced unsteadily. Felt the Yellow one sift in the darkness, jerky, strange. They were like puppets, moving without will, mind blank, heart thundering.

 

Surely, it couldn't be what it looked like. Surely, it was not…

 

Hulk extended his hand, huge fingers a breath away from what could have been a shoulder. They couldn't see the front of the  _ thing _ , from how it had fallen to the ground. 

 

“Don't touch it.” Bruce muttered from inside, unable to make his voice stronger, paralysed. Deep down, there was a knowledge, already, he didn't want to acknowledge. 

 

Hulk couldn't hear him, or didn't want too, as his fingers finally made contact.

 

… it was hot, and smooth. Very gently, heartbreakingly so, he pushed, and the thing moved to lay on its, his, back. 

 

The mask, and the blackened hole where the Ark reactor used to be, where the only still recognisable features, everything else… 

 

Their fingers came to rest on the side of the helmet. Blood was seeping through the cracks of the armour, kindly painting their digits red. 

 

The same intense red hue, Tony loved so much. 

It only made sense he would have that colour flowing through his veins.

 

He was still, quiet… it was unnatural. Tony was a vibrant being, he could never sit still for long, mind racing and body twitching to follow. Even asleep he was restless… coming suddenly awake, with ideas he needed to put on practice next second. 

 

To see him so still… 

 

The negation he had surrounded himself with, began to crack… Bruce couldn't breathe through the pain, couldn't move, couldn't think… 

 

Then, the Titan sifted again, nearly healed, and hissed with malice, deep contentment on his red irises as he watched Tony's body.

 

And Bruce knew  **_HATE._ **

 

**oOo**

 

Yellow rose through imposible pain, and scorching hate. His enormous shadow engulfed the sun, his claws opened gashes on the asphalt. 

 

He raised his head to the sky, and howled a sound no man could have fully understood. Yet, Thor listened, and quivered with the inhuman suffering it contained. 

 

“My friend…” the asgardian muttered, blue irises damp with unshed tears, for his lost shield brother. As he brought a fist to his chest, in respect for the warrior that had died.

 

The sky turned black with clouds, the streets echoed with the lament of the howling wind, and rain fell heavily, drenching everyone and everything. 

 

Vapour rose from Yellow scales, as the hate he carried, so strong and terrible, burned everything that touched him. 

 

He fell on the Titan with harrowing bloodlust. 

 

**oOo**

 

The battle could scarcely be called such. It was blood, it was guts, it was teeth and claws and clashing bodies. 

 

Viscera painted the asphalt red, as both tore at the other with vicious intent. 

 

Son, it was clear the Yellow monster  was stronger, and crueler, than the dark one. He tore out his tail with brute strength, and gave raucous laughter when the other howled in pain and hate. It did not matter the breath of  fire, that blackened his golden scales. 

 

As the Titan got more, and more, desperate, Bruce's alter ego got stronger and fiercer. The creatures powers, entirely useless, in one who had seen his worst fear already take place, and thus, had nothing else to be afraid of. 

However, he did have one feeling raising higher and higher on his breast. Like a venom consuming him, hate devoured and empowered the Yellow one. 

 

It was not enough to return the Titan to his cage, it wouldn't be to kill him either, even if it had been possible. 

The creature who had taken Tony away,  needed to suffer blinding agony. 

 

A blow to the head threw the Titan to the ground, where Yellow could easily trap him. He sat atop the twisting serpent, and grabbed his jaw to keep it still, as he tore his eyes out of their sockets. 

The howl of pain collapsed into gurgles when his jaw bone snapped too.

 

After that… it was a carnage.

 

The Yellow tore off limbs and wings, and when it was not enough, he broke the soft skin of the dragon's belly, to take out his guts.

 

He batted in blood and viscera, snarling and howling, taking pleasure in tearing away things as they healed.

 

Yet… it was not enough.

 

The void inside, where Tony had been,  was a gaping hole he couldn't seem to fill. 

 

He couldn't clench the pain, the need, the horrible emptiness. 

 

No matter the amount of pain he inflicted in the one who took him, it was not enough…

 

Strange words, took a minute for his mind to register, among the bloodlust. And when he did, Yellow found it was Thor the one reciting them, hands aflame in light, as he manipulated what looked like a mixture of a box, and a puzzle. Brow furrowed in concentration, sweat beading his brow. 

 

Soon the light grew tendrils that rose to trap the Titan, who tried to escape even now. However, Yellow embedded his claws into his flesh, viciously, and holded him in place, as the tendrils got brighter and brighter, and more numerous by the second. 

 

Thor's voice raised with the howling wind, quickly turning into a hurricane.

 

The tendrils became a cage of blinding light, and terrible hotness, that still got brighter, and hotter, until it hurt to touch, and look at. 

 

Yellow had to let go, hissing against being forced to do so, as the chant reached a furious crescendo. Then, something tore the air itself. A sound that was not sound, broke into a wave, throwing Thor and Yellow to the ground. And the Titan disappeared in a flash, leaving the street suddenly dark, and calm.  

 

**oOo**

 

Minutes later, when Thor, wounded and still dizzy, managed to get up, he saw Yellow had relinquished his place. And it was Bruce, dirty, bloody and naked, the one cradling Tony's broken body to his chest, as tears trailed down his silent face.

 

**oOo**

  
  


(A week later, SHIELD headquarters)

 

“ So this so called Titan, won't be leaving his cage again?”

 

“Not in the next thousand years at least, minister.” Fury answered, as he stood surrounded by the holographic display of the Earth council. 

 

It had been a week since the attack and the world was coming back to normal, the dead count not as high as it could have been.

 

A female member spoke then, precise in her intent.

 

“It's good to know. And what is the state of the Avengers?”

 

“Agents Barton and Natasha remain in medical care, but out of danger. As does Captain Rogers's for now.  Thor’s inhuman metabolism, let him fully recover in a matter of hours.” He left one out of the report. 

It didn't go unnoticed. 

 

“As we spoke last time, Director Fury, this council must address the issue of Doctor Banner.” The same female said.

 

“And as it was stated, Doctor Banner is still a member of the Avengers.” Fury intercepted, with respectful iron will. 

 

Another, elderly man, spoken then.

 

“He is uncontrollable. The Hulk was already a terrible risk, this new yellow creature can't be contained. He decimated a military base. It's too dangerous to…”

 

“That creature, as you call him, saved all our lives.” Fury intervened.

 

“We can't confide in Doctor Banner’s goodwill, Director. Even if he is in control as of now, he is not stable.” A second, slightly younger woman, said.

 

“Not after Mister Stark's death.” The man finished.

 

“We should consider disabling him.”

 

Fury clenched his fist, knowing  _ disabling,  _ was just a smooth way to say, death sentence.

 

“I can't support such a decision. Doctor Banner had already been key to the handling of several world crisis.” 

 

“It's not your place…”

 

A heavy fall outside the room interrupted them, just as the door opened to admit Thor. The agents that had tried to stop him, groaning on the ground, and unable to get up.

 

“Thor, this is no way to…” the elder man started, but was again interrupted by the asgardian God.

 

“I truly regret my uninvited entrance.”- he bowed curtly to the Midgardian council, knowing when to court favor, and earning a slight relaxation of their stances for it.- “However,-he continued- I come to  relieve this Council of a great worry, as I have come to understand.” He straightened into regal dignity. “I ask Bruce Banner be released into my care. I will bring him with me to Asgard, as we are better suited to deal with the Yellow one, should he emerge a new.”

 

“It's a very generous offer, Prince Thor. But why would you want to take such responsibility?” The oldest woman asked.

 

“Because I made a bow to a very cherished friend “

 

**oOo**

(Bruce)

 

_ It didn't matter,  _ that the world was coming back to normal, little by little.

 

_ It didn't matter,  _ that Clint, Steve and Natasha, were well and alive in the hospital, getting treatment for their injuries.

 

_ It didn't matter,  _ he would be sentenced to life prison, if not outright death.

 

Tony was the  _ one thing _ that mattered, and he wasn't anymore. 

 

_ Nothing mattered anymore. _

 

**oOo**

 

Thor was brought by Fury to the crystal cell Bruce was kept in. A second model, built after the first Loki had destroyed. 

The vision that greeted him was heartbreaking. 

 

Bruce stood inside, seated on the ground, barely clad in the same shoot dirty clothes someone had managed to obtain for him on the wake of the combat. A greyish blue sweater too big for him, and a pair of old brown trousers. 

He looked tired, haggard. His hair upkeep and dirty, his skin sallow pale, his gaze vacant. There was dried blood beneath his nails. Tony's, dried blood.

 

“Wouldn't you let him have a shower?” Thor frowned as he asked Fury.

 

“He didn't want to.”

 

Thor felt his heart clench. But he shook the sensation away, as he approached Bruce.

 

Fury let the cell-doors security measures, take his retina scan and voice, before it opened to let Thor in.

 

The asgardian came to stay before Bruce, and fell into one knee, so he could speak face to face.

 

Bruce barely shifted his stare, letting Thor know he was aware of his presence, if nothing else.

 

“Bruce, friend of mine.”- he spoke kindly, with the tone one would use to coax a wild, hurt, animal, near. Fury thought he was not mistaken.- “I have come to ask you with me to Asgard.” -Thor extended a hand to touch Bruce's limp fingers… no, there was something he was pressing to Banner's hand. An amulet? -”There's someone waiting there, who would never forgive me if you did not.” 

 

Bruce's hand closed tightly around it,  something like fear on his trembling fingers, unwilling to let it go. And nodded.

 

Thor gave a kind smile.

 

Fury didn't know what it meant, but he knew what he hopped it did. 

 

**oOo**

 

(Asgard)

 

The golden city was everything its name promised. 

 

Sun kissed metal gleaming in the morning light, making the palace into a gigantic jewel, at which feet the city spread out; white stone houses, and luscious green gardens, where the sound of happy, lively, people, was everywhere. 

The smell of delicious foods tingled his nose.

 

Yet, Bruce walked among it all like a dead man; Eyes vacant and lifeless, skin pale. 

 

The only sign of will were his left hand's fingers, tightly curled around the amulet.

 

Tony's charred amulet.

 

He had recognised the piece, the moment Thor put it in his hands.  

 

Now it was his only tetter to his memory.

\--

 

He trailed after Thor, through the palace's golden halls of high reaching ceilings. Insensitive to their beauty, and uninterested on their final destination. Be it another cell, or a guest room, he didn't care. 

 

Finally, they reached a gallery opening into an enclosed patio. 

 

Light from the golden morning sun, turned the tiles of the stone square honey hued, and made the greenery growing in a very small garden to the side, into a luscious space of fresh shadow. 

 

It looked to be a training place, where a few shirtless men battled in pairs with wooden swords, beneath the watchful gaze of an elder; whose gold armour spoke of high range and respect. 

 

As they entered the patio, the man raised his palm.

 

“We will take a break now, go refresh yourselves.”

 

The battling couples stopped with relieved sighs and happy murmurs. Obviously tired, and sweat drenched.

 

As they moved to enter the palace, a man broke from the group to come greet Thor.

 

As he advanced alone,  the sun  bathed his sweaty shirtless torso,  unblemished by scars and metal, touched his fresh face and goatee,  younger and healthier than Bruce could remember, and shined on his raven, rumbled hair.

 

Bruce felt his heart lurch, suddenly aware of his surroundings, with crystal, painful, clarity. 

 

It couldn't possibly be real, yet...

 

The man's eyes turned to him, caramel colored irises full of recognition. A smile broke across that mouth then,  happy, full of mischief and life.

 

Bruce could do nothing but watch. Paralysed by fear, that this was but a chimera of  his own imagination. Heart thundering inside, breath short… it was like watching the world turn back, and he just couldn't take it. 

 

This couldn't be real. 

He turned around, going for the exit, as the man approached, however, he should have remembered Stark's unbending stubbornness.

 

“Bruce!” The man called, and Banner found himself, suddenly, stopped by the arm. And as he moved to free himself, a pair of lips were on his, kissing the air out of him.

The warm tongue that touched his palate, was intoxicating, so familiar, so missed, so much loved...

 

The hand not closed around his arm, went  up and sneaked into his locks, at the same time sweaty warm skin pressed against him. Facial hair tickled his cheek, and the others manly smell filled his lungs; sweat and metal, pine shampoo, electricity, and that musky, perfect, scent, that was pure Tony Stark.

 

No one else could smell like him. 

 

“Tony…” he whimpered into warm lips, suddenly taken by the enormous realisation he was alive, in his arms, safe.

 

He returned the embrace with desperation, marring tanned skin with too forceful fingers. Tony grunted and gave a soft laugh, as he tightened his own grab and pressed his body into Bruce's punishingly. 

 

They kissed again, clashing with such strong passion they broke skin against teeth, and still didn't care. Their tongues meet tasting everything from the other; spit, blood, the reddish taste of the inside of a cheek.

 

They only stopped because the need to breathe, and even then, they stayed wound together, faces inches apart; breathing into each other, and studying their faces, like they had never seen a more precious sight.

 

“How…?” Bruce asked, still trying to calm his breathing.

 

“How I'm alive?” Tony answered, a very un-Thony-like sweet smile, painting his reddish lips. “Well, I was revived by Thor's father. Kind of.” 

 

“...kind of?” 

 

Thor spoke then, somewhat merciful of Bruce's confusion. His face was that of a happy proud father, looking at them.

 

“The all father has the power of raising the most brave warriors from those who die in battle, to serve in Asgard as enjeinhar. The night we trapped the Titan, I asked he raise Anthony, as he is a truly remarkable warrior, and a very cherished friend.” 

 

Bruce's confusion turned bitter, but he couldn't truly feel anger, when he had Tony back. However, he did ask hard truths.

 

“That was seven days ago, and you didn't tell anyone. Why? You could have spared us days of torture.” Bruce's words came calm and barely above a whisper, suspecting if he spoke louder, his speech would turn into a snarl.

 

His own pain, the pain Pepper, Steve,  Natasha, Clint… were surely going through. Thor could have put a stop to it long ago. 

 

The Thunderer's face fell,  darkening into contrition, however, not regretful.

 

“I'm truly sorry my friend. I would have spared you this suffering.” - he said with a clear gaze that refused to look away.- “But I could not speak there, least someone listen. This magic is something your realm can't be trusted with, as things stay now. Too many would want their life lengthened. Their loved ones back… and Asgard wouldn't have helped.” Thor said this in cutting certainty. “This, is a power only my father and one other do posses in Asgard. A very consuming one to the caster, and  very rarely used. Is not good to cheat death too many a time. Do you understand friend mine?” His voice turned a gentler shade. “This could have created a conflict between our realms. I could not take the risk the knowledge got into wrong hands.”

 

Bruce had to acknowledge the truth in his friend's words. Yet, he felt the others were owned it too. 

 

But Tony nipped his ear, and everything else faded into the warm that flooded that empty, Tony shaped hole, that had been opened in him for too long.

 

“Less talk, more celebration.”- Tony took the reins of the conversation, with expert charisma and selfishness. Effectively giving Bruce more happy things to think about. 

He hated seeing Bruce look crestfallen, and he came looking heartbroken enough. - “I have been waiting long enough for you to arrive. So now I'm going to show you my new room, and we will christen it, till it feels homely enough. Got it?” He took Bruce's hand in his, and pulled him (looking stunned but flushed happy) along, stopping only long enough, to gift Thor a truly shameless wink.

 

The prince’s laughter followed them down the golden hall, to their new, and bright, life. 

 

**oOo**

 

It was almost spring now, the weather was becoming gentler, and the trees were beginning to sprout delicate green nubs. 

 

Seeing the children play in the park in front of the hospital, Steve could hardly believe the terrible things that had shaken earth not a month ago.

 

“So, Bruce is happy?” He asked to his companion of the park bench.

 

Thor was dressed in human gear, jeans and a T-shirt, and looked perfectly comfortable with it. 

 

“He's most content, yes.” 

 

Steve smiled, not taking his eyes from the laughing children.

 

“Then, it's good he's in Asgard.”

  
**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic took forever to write, but it's finally done, and I can't say I dislike the end result. 
> 
> Maybe it's not what I first expected, and it had left me surprised by the twists and turns it took, abandoning the initial idea I had, to grow into this. 
> 
> But I'm happy it has reached its end, and do it well. So now I'm kinda feeling like a proud mother. XD  
> Thanks to all of you for reading this little fic, and for your comments. And very especial thanks for D og, who helped me came to better understand Tony. Whitout her help this chapter wouldn't have been so felt.


End file.
